


Happy Birthday, Callum

by fandomandmore



Series: Happy Birthday, Callum [1]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24325345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomandmore/pseuds/fandomandmore
Summary: Based on the idea of the novel, "One Day" - this shows the day before Callum's birthday, leading up to midnight, each year from his 19th birthday to his 28th - doesn't follow canon.Callum hates his birthday, it has never been anything worth celebrating. Will he eventually learn how to celebrate the passing of each year and have fun on a day that's meant to be his to enjoy?(Ballum will happen eventually but they won't meet until Callum is older - in chapter 8!)
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Callum ''Halfway'' Highway/Chris Kennedy, Whitney Dean/Callum "Halfway" Highway
Series: Happy Birthday, Callum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873669
Comments: 49
Kudos: 98





	1. 2010 - 19th Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Note:  
> Mentions of Callum's childhood and his dad's behaviours at the start of this fic and, as such, the internal homophobia he is struggling with is prevalent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2010 - Callum is at university, it's his 19th birthday tomorrow and he's feeling things he doesn't want to for his flatmate, Chris.

**2010 - 19 th Birthday**

Callum hummed to himself, cutting up the carrots to add into his pot of what would become vegetable soup. The minute his new flatmates discovered he was studying to become a chef; he'd instantly become the resident cook of his uni halls and he loved it.

“Hey!” Callum jumped as Chris came up behind him, his hands resting on his shoulders, the golden brown colour of his skin a stark contrast against Callum’s paler tone. His heart doing that weird, fluttery thing it always did whenever his flatmate appeared and doing his level best to ignore it, which he was finding increasingly difficult. Especially when Chris did things like leaning over, hands still firmly on his shoulders, head level with Callum's as he peered into the pot of food that he was stirring. It was all Callum could do not to sink into the touch and he didn’t want to think about the reasons behind such a thought.

“What you making?” Chris asked, his breath ghosting Callum's cheek, making him shiver.

“Nothing exciting. Just vegetable soup tonight.” He shrugged Chris off his shoulders, trying to appear innocuous, yet not quite sure he’d managed it if the look on Chris’ face was anything to go by.

“Anything you make is always amazing. It’s a skill I wish I had!” Chris laughed, moment forgotten, throwing himself onto the nearest chair and resting his head on the table in front of him. Callum tried and failed not to stare as Chris' eyes fluttered closed, as a strand of hair fell in front of his face. Callum resolutely ignored the random urge that came over him to push the lock of hair back behind Chris' ear.

“God, I’m knackered. It’s been a _loooong_ day today. How long am I gonna have to wait to be fed?”

“As long as it takes!” Callum laughed, making himself focus back on the task at hand. “Hobbit ain’t back for another half hour anyway so you’re gonna have to wait, ain’t ya?”

“You’re kidding? What’s the point of us being best friends if it doesn’t get me any special treatment? Chris sat back up, sending a mock glare in Callum’s direction. Callum just rolled his eyes, grinning mischievously.

“You’re lucky Rachel’s out tonight otherwise you’d be waiting even longer... Anyway, who said anything about us being best friends?”

“Whatever. I’m not even dignifying that with a response.” Chris huffed.

Callum just laughed, focussing his attention back onto the vegetable soup and trying to slow the beating of his racing heart.

“So... What are we doing tomorrow?” Chris asked, sitting up, as more hair fell across his face. “Ugh, I seriously need a hair cut!”

“Nah, you don’t. Looks nice.” The words were out of Callum’s mouth before he could stop them and, even then, he didn’t understand where they came from. Nothing of what he said or thought when it came to Chris made sense.

Chris looked at him, something flashing in his eyes that Callum couldn’t pinpoint.

“I mean, it suits you. It’s...” Callum took a breath, knowing he was getting flustered. “I mean, tomorrow. Lectures. What dya mean what are we doing?”

“Don’t be dense!” Chris looked at him strangely.

Callum looked back, confusion etching his features.

“What?”

“Your birthday, mate! It’s your birthday?” Chris faltered, clearly beginning to doubt himself. “I’m sure you said it was 25th March? Am I wrong?”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Callum waved the wooden spoon he was holding round his head, he turned away from Chris again, away from the sincerity in his eyes that made Callum’s eyes water.

“S'not important. We don’t need to do anything. Nothing worth celebrating.” He mumbled. Memories of past birthdays flashing in his mind, willing them away, wanting to forget. University was a fresh start, away from all that. He took a deep breath, tasting the soup, gripping the worktop, grounding himself with the sound of the extractor fan blowing loudly just above his head.

“Cal, mate, you ok?” Chris' voice came from behind him, uncertain, as a hesitant hand touched his shoulder. “Course your birthday’s important! You’re important. You’re worth celebrating.”

Callum remained still, staring at the fan through watery eyes, willing the tears not to fall, knuckles turning white from his grip on the kitchen surface. Chris’ words ringing in his head. No one had ever called him important. Ever. The word ringing in his head, making him dizzy.

“I... Birthday’s were always forgotten.” He forced out the words, trusting Chris, knowing he’d not judge. “Dad too drunk to care. Stuart too caught up in trying to keep me safe to realise what day it was.”

“God, Cal. I knew things were bad for you but.. what about college, with friends? You mentioned Lee?”

“The last couple of years I’d go to Mick and Linda's, they’d get me a cake, me and Lee would get takeaway. It was quiet. It was nice. But the fact I was there and not with my own family, seeing how Mick and Linda were with their children, it was just a stark reminder of all I didn’t have. I just wanted to forget it this year. I forgot I’d told you my birthday. I can’t believe you remembered!” Callum laughed, empty of any real feeling, daring to look in Chris' direction.

“Right. You ain’t got a choice. Me and you. We’re going out. And we’re getting bladdered and, you...” He touched a finger to Callum's chest and Callum realised just how close he was, could see the specks of gold dusting the outline of his hazel eyes, could see the slight freckles covering his nose, the tiny scar just above his left eyebrow that he’d never noticed before, wondering how he’d got it.

“You are gonna find out what a birthday should be like. Cos you deserve it.” The last sentence came out as a whisper and there was a tension in the air that Callum couldn’t describe. This wasn’t how he should feel around his best _male_ friend. It wasn’t right but Chris was so close and Callum's heart was beating so hard, he was surprised Chris couldn’t hear it. Chris’ finger was still pressed against his chest and he felt him shift slightly so that his whole palm covered his heart. Chris inched forward, ever closer and Callum wasn’t even sure he could remember how to breathe.

“Cal...” Chris whispered on a breath so soft Callum was sure he’d imagined it; he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, _you’re important,_ still echoing in his mind.

A piece of Chris' hair fell into his eyes again and Callum felt the urge to touch again; he reached up, slowly, faltering slightly, as he moved the strand back behind Chris’ ear, fingers brushing the skin there. Chris sucked in a breath, as Callum brushed his hand through his hair again and all he could think of was how it soft it felt.

They were so close now, too close for their positions to be considered friendly and Callum’s brain was firing warning signals at him, _what are you doing? If your dad could see you now! This ain’t normal. It ain’t right,_ interspersed with, _forget about your dad. It’s just Chris. You just need to take one step closer._ He knew then what all the weird feelings he'd been having were and he was terrified.

Chris looked at him, question in his eyes as he tilted his head, lips so close now, clearly wanting some kind of official confirmation from Callum before closing the gap completely and Callum wasn’t sure he could give it.

He was _saved_ by a thud as the door of the flat was swung open and a voice carried down the hall.

“FRIENDS! THE WANDERER RETURNS!”

Callum flew away from Chris’ touch faster than he thought humanly possible, retrieving the wooden spoon, stirring the soup with way more force than was needed.

“In the kitchen, Harley!” Callum called, trying to control the shake in his voice.

“Callum.” Chris whispered, an urgency to his tone. “Cal, please.”

“There’s nothing to say.” He shot back, as Harley, their flatmate, entered the kitchen area.

“What you up to tomorrow, Hobbit?” Callum asked, purposefully not looking at Chris as he did so. “S'my birthday. Chris wants us all to go out and get drunk to celebrate. What d'ya reckon?”

Hobbit, nickname gained due to his smaller than average height, grinned and, out of the corner of his eye, Callum saw Chris' face fall. He didn’t acknowledge it.

“Why the hell am I only finding out it’s your birthday now? But, count me in! I am ready for a shit ton of alcohol and you, my friend, are gonna get drunk til you’re sick! Lectures be damned! Whatever you’re making us tonight Halfway, it smells fucking delicious! How long we gotta wait? I’m starved!”

Callum could sense rather than see Chris staring at him but he ignored it.

“Just about done! Vegetable Soup. I’m not hungry. Got a headache coming on. You two enjoy, I’m gonna lie down. Glad you can come tomorrow, Hobbit. It’ll be fun!” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, his head was ringing and he felt sick.

Leaving his two friends behind to serve themselves, he vaguely heard Hobbit ask if he was ok and Chris shout his name as he headed to his bedroom, closing the door.

Laying on his bed, he let out a soft groan. Trying not to think about the last... what could only have been 5minutes but what felt like a lifetime.

He could still feel the trace of Chris' fingers where they'd pressed against his chest. He scratched at his skin, trying to get rid of the feeling.

He couldn’t be like this. He just couldn’t. Memories of his childhood, which at one point he'd managed to suppress, came flooding back.

_Callum. Aged 5. Pointing out that the boy on the TV had pretty hair. His dad slapping him, hard, on the back of the head. “That’ll knock some sense into you boy!”_

_Callum. Aged 8. Forgetting himself. Saying that his boyfriend at school was called Greg. His dad pinning him up against the wall, shouting that Callum needed to be a real man. “No son of mine will be like that!” Callum crying, not knowing what he’d done wrong. Stuart pushing his dad off, protecting him in the moment but then later, in the dark, whispering, angry, “you best not be a fairy...” Callum didn’t know what he meant but he knew it didn’t sound good._

_Callum. Aged 13. Him and Tom from his Science class, tidying away the last of the equipment from the lesson, hands brushing. Tom gripping his fingers, Callum gripping back, until he heard his dad and Stuart’s words in his head. Realising, finally, what they meant. Pushing Tom away, disgusted. At Tom. But mainly at himself. Promising himself that he would forget and it would never happen again._

He heard a soft knock on his door, jolting him back into the present. Followed by the name only Chris called him, whispered softly,

“Cal.”

His heart beat giving away what his brain wouldn’t acknowledge, he had no idea how long he'd been lying there but it was now dark. The knock came again. Callum ignored it. Willing Chris to just _go away._

Checking the time, he was shocked to discover it was midnight. 25th March. It was officially his birthday and he wasn’t convinced his celebrations were going to be any better this year than previous years after what had transpired earlier.

He heard the knock again, a little louder.

“Cal? Please?”

Callum lay still, praying Chris would get the hint and leave him alone. He didn’t want to see him, terrified of the thoughts still flashing in his mind.

After one more hesitant knock, he heard footsteps turning away from the door, almost breathing a sigh of relief until he realised they were heading back in his direction.

“Happy Birthday, Callum,” he heard, whispered sadly through the closed door and then the footsteps walked away again.

Callum rolled onto his side and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it will end with Callum and Ben together... But they won't meet until one of the later chapters, Callum has to go through his feelings for Chris and a relationship with Whitney first!
> 
> \-----
> 
> Tumblr: fandomandmore  
> Twitter: fandomandmoree


	2. 2011 - 20th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2011 - Callum has been dating Whitney for the past 6 months, she's wanting to take their relationship further and Callum still doesn't know how to deal with his feelings for Chris.

**2011 - 20 th Birthday**

Callum and Chris ate in silence, as they did whenever Hobbit wasn’t home; they had very quickly begun to realise that he was the one who made most of the conversation these days.

Callum missed the days when he and Chris would converse with ease, feeling comfortable in each other’s company, enjoying their time together. It seemed like a distant memory. He missed him. He missed his jokes and the looks they used to share.

He was still cooking for them all, tonight’s masterpiece being a new chicken pasta dish he was trying to perfect but the awkwardness when they were sat across the table from each other was almost tangible and made his skin crawl in a way he didn’t like. It had been 12 months and Callum still found it hard not to cry. He knew he was the only one who could fix it. He just didn’t know how to without giving himself away; so, he didn’t and things remained the same. Things remained _wrong._

“Lovely as ever, Callum” Chris said, smile not quite meeting his eyes, as he stood and left the table, placing his plate in the sink.

It had been a year since _The Incident_ as Callum had taken to calling it in his head and their friendship had become strained. In the weeks that followed, every time Chris reached to touch him in the free, easy, way he used to do, Callum flinched as if he’d been burned, until Chris just stopped coming within a metre of him. Until Chris had stopped calling him Cal and he became _Callum_ , sometimes even Halfway. That had hurt the most. He knew he only had himself to blame.

Now, it was like they were almost strangers, Callum preparing to move out of their joint house in the coming months; their second year of uni coming to an end, never quite sure how to have a proper conversation without it feeling awkward.

If Hobbit had picked up on any tension, however, he hadn’t mentioned it. Either they were both doing a good job at acting like nothing had changed or Hobbit knew better than to bring it up for discussion. Callum assumed it was the latter.

Callum knew deep down that the minute he moved out that would be it. The little of their friendship that remained would be over. All ties severed for good. He tried not to think about it.

“Is Whitney coming round today? Halfway? Callum?”

“Hmm?” Callum turned, distracted by his thoughts as always.

“Whitney?” Chris repeated, his jaw becoming taut, as it always did when he spoke about her or she was mentioned. “Is she coming today or tomorrow?”

“Oh. Tonight. She should be here soon.”

“I’ll get out of your hair then.” Hurt and something Callum couldn’t read flashing across his face, he turned, heading out of the kitchen. Callum knew it was now or never.

“Chris...” He started, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral.

Chris span round, hope shining in the eyes that Callum still saw as clearly in his dreams as he did that day, a year ago.

“I...” Callum stuttered, unsure of what he even wanted to say, what he could say, to the man who had told him he was important. The man who’d made him feel things he couldn’t, he shouldn’t.

“Have a good night.” He looked down at the table, not daring to look at him.

When Chris’ reply came, soft, barely audible and resigned, Callum felt a tear fall down his cheek, hoping Chris hadn’t noticed.

“Happy Birthday, Cal. I just hope you know how much you truly deserve it.”

When Callum finally looked up, Chris had gone, so many words left unspoken. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, hating how much things had changed.

“HEY, HEY, HEY! HONEY’S I’M HOME!” Hobbit’s voice echoed through the house and into the kitchen. Callum snorted, wiping at his eyes quickly. One thing he was sure would never change would be Hobbit’s habit to announce his arrival back home, no matter what time it was. 

“Brought you a present with me, Halfway! You can thank me later!” Hobbit’s voice appeared in the kitchen doorway and Callum looked up, puzzled, until he saw who was stood behind him.

“Bumped into her at the end of the street. Have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, birthday boy!” Hobbit winked at him, Callum went bright red, as Hobbit’s laugh receded back down the hall.

“Hey!” Whitney smiled at him shyly as she entered the kitchen.

He stood up, bending down to kiss her cheek but meeting lips instead, as she turned to capture them against hers. He managed not to recoil at the action, realising, as ever, that his reaction to kissing his girlfriend wasn’t a normal one. Refusing to accept the reasons why. Refusing to entertain the thoughts that constantly tried to plague his head, pushing them as far back into the recesses of his mind as he could.

It would be a year tomorrow since they’d met. The big birthday celebration that followed _The Incident_ had resulted in him meeting Whitney and now they were six months into a relationship. Callum was floundering. They still hadn’t slept together, despite Hobbit’s assumptions, and every time they were alone, Whitney would hint. She’d almost pleaded with him on her own birthday but she’d finally accepted that he wasn’t ready, letting the matter drop, and they’d never got any further than fumbling hands.

Tonight, he wasn't sure she was going to accept any more excuses, hinting that she wanted to give him a birthday present he’d never forget, and he was terrified. He knew he shouldn’t be. He loved Whitney. He did. She was kind, loving, funny, gorgeous. She was everything he should want. She _was_ everything he wanted. If he told himself often enough, maybe, hopefully, he’d start to believe it. He didn’t want to lose her, she was important to him and he did love her, he truly did, in his own way. He knew he couldn’t keep putting the inevitable off for much longer.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of wine he’d made sure to buy and pouring them both a drink, knowing he'd need at least some alcohol in his system to get through tonight.

“Looking forward to tomorrow?” Whitney asked. “Big 2-0!”

Callum sent a half smile in her direction, “Don’t like birthdays! Told you that when I met ya last year! I’ve got summat for you though… Wait here.”

“True, but you’ve got me this year, ain’t ya? You’ve got summat to celebrate! Hang on, what dya mean you’ve got me summat. It’s _your_ birthday… You’ll get your pressie tomorrow though.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s a year since we met and I know it's not our actual anniversary but I’ve got to treat ya ain’t I? Cos you’re special to me, Whit.”

“I love you.” She looked at him, eyes shining, asking for so much more than he ever thought he could give.

“Love you too.” He smiled a little wider, not convinced it reached his eyes, “now, wait here!”

She kissed him on the cheek, stroking his arm as he moved away, grinning as she sat at the table, wine in hand.

“Be quick.”

Walking down the hall to living room, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He just had to get through tonight, he told himself, then everything would be alright. He just needed to do it, once, then it wouldn’t be such a big deal anymore. He might even enjoy it.

He grabbed the gift bag from where he’d left it on the table, hoping Whitney would like what was inside. On re-entering the kitchen, he kissed the top of her head, placing the bag in front of her and sitting opposite.

“Happy sort-of anniversary!”

Opening the bag and the jewellery box that was inside, Whitney squealed. Taking the necklace out of its resting place on the velvet cushion, she brought it closer to her face, gazing at it through misty eyes. A simple silver love heart encasing a single diamond.

“Callum, it’s gorgeous! Thank you. Oh my God! Help me put it on?”

She held it out to him.

“You like it then?” He said, suddenly uncertain.

“Callum! I love it. Honestly. Come on, help me put it on.”

She rose from the table, holding out her hand again, gesturing for him to take the necklace from her.

He stood up, retrieving the necklace as he did so and moving behind her. It was then that he knew what she expected to happen next and he suddenly felt sick. He took a gulp of his wine, wincing as it burned past his throat and stood behind her. As he moved her hair to the side and clasped the necklace round her neck, he saw her shiver. He remembered doing the same at Chris’ touch and instantly felt guilty. His hands on her shoulders, she turned to face him, determination set on her features. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him.

“Come on.” She whispered, leading them upstairs and into his bedroom, closing the door behind them.

He stood, awkwardly, in the middle of the room, as Whitney looked at him, expectation in her eyes,

“I’ll help you.” She whispered, “it’s not that scary. I promise. Let me help you celebrate your birthday Callum, let me show you what you’re missing.”

She kissed him again. He nodded, resolutely, steeling himself, and kissed back. From then, time flew past in a blur, Whitney’s hands burning his skin. It felt like he was floating above, watching it happen to someone else.

As they moved to the bed, he closed his eyes, Whitney’s body was too soft, curves in all the wrong places. He was becoming slowly and distinctly aware that the only way he could get through this was to focus on the one thing he really shouldn’t. He thought of Chris. His mind full of a hard body, of warm olive skin, of large, rough hands pulling him close, of hair just a little too long, falling over hazel eyes with flashes of gold, pushing past the guilt of using Chris, hoping Whitney didn’t notice his discomfort as he finally succumbed to the moment.

After, as he lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing returning to normal, Callum felt empty. It wasn’t what he'd ever imagined his first time to feel like; he’d always tried not to imagine it at all.

At his side, he felt Whitney turn, leaning her head on his chest, hand on his heart, yet the hand was too small, too smooth, and Callum felt like crying. He should love her, he _wanted_ to love her, properly. If his Dad could see him now, he thought, he’d be so proud. Callum had finally become a man. He scoffed internally, if his dad only knew.

He drifted between sleep and awake, hoping Whitney wouldn’t expect anything extra from him tonight. He knew he wouldn’t be able to give it. He was drowning in his own mess and he wasn’t sure how he could push himself back up to the surface without coming face-to-face with the issue that was forcing him under in the first place.

Sometime later, as he noticed the clock turn midnight, he heard Whitney whisper,

“Happy Birthday, Callum,” as she leant up to kiss his cheek. His insides churned with guilt, resentment and shame, longing for someone else, hating himself for wanting it. He turned in Whitney’s arms, allowing her to hold him, knowing it should be the other way round but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt the tears streaming down his cheeks, continuing to ignore the feelings that were raging through him, as was becoming customary. Driving away the image of muscular arms holding him close, of a different, deeper accent whispering those same words against his chest, knowing deep down that his earlier actions would make it a whole lot harder in the future; wondering if he would ever believe the words Chris had whispered earlier, that he deserved to be happy on this specific day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it will end with Callum and Ben together... But they won't meet until one of the later chapters, Callum has to go through his feelings for Chris and a relationship with Whitney first!


	3. 2012 - 21st Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2012 - It's the day before Callum's 21st and he's on a night out with Whitney and Hobbit. He hasn't spoken to Chris for months but memories of him are everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an ever-increasing fondness for Hobbit, despite the fact he hardly appears!

**2012 – 21 st Birthday**

Callum had woken up that morning with a sense of dread. Whitney was insisting they go out to celebrate his birthday with his friends. He didn’t like to point out he only really had one friend these days, in the form of Hobbit.

He hadn’t seen Rachel, his flatmate from first year, since the move to the house with Hobbit and Chris; she knew he hadn’t spoken to Chris since they’d moved in together, giving up on asking why after what felt like the hundredth time of Callum responding with “nothing, just leave it, Whit!”

The other people on his course were definitely more acquaintances than anything, he had just been so caught up in his friendship with Chris at the start that he hadn’t thought to actually make friends elsewhere.

Therefore, the night out to celebrate his 21st was going to consist of his girlfriend and Hobbit. He couldn’t see this year being the turning point in actually enjoying his birthday but now here they were, meant to be heading out and Whitney was nowhere in sight.

“Whit! Are you nearly ready? We’re meant to be meeting Hobbit in ten minutes!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m coming. Just finishing me hair. Two seconds.”

Callum rolled his eyes, not surprised but still getting frustrated. He would never understand why it took so long for Whitney to get ready but after dating her for the past 18 months, it no longer came as a shock.

He hadn’t seen Hobbit since Christmas and he was looking forward to catching up with his friend. However, the last time they’d met, Hobbit had spent far too long trying to get him to speak to Chris and he really couldn’t cope with that, especially tonight of all nights. The two-year anniversary of _The Incident_ that had changed everything. He hadn’t said a word to Chris since he’d moved out the previous June. A whole nine months and not a word.

He remembered their last conversation like it was yesterday, limited words, eyes blazing with emotion neither would admit to for different reasons.

_“Are you really going to leave it like this? Please?”_

_“I’ll see you around, Chris, yeah?” His back towards him._

_“Cal…”_

_He’d turned then, always did when Chris used the name that no one else called him. The name that was theirs. He knew his eyes were shining with tears, shaking his head almost imperceptibly._

_“Don’t.” Their eyes locked and Callum hoped Chris could see in them all he would never be able to say, as he’d walked away for the final time._

As Whitney walked down the stairs, he knew she looked beautiful. She was stunning. He was overcome with an emotion he knew wasn’t love but as close as he could get to loving her.

“I’m glad we’re going out tonight, Cal.” He flinched at the name. She used it rarely but he still couldn’t cope when she did. It still hurt to hear it said by anyone else. She remained oblivious to his internal battle, as ever.

“It’ll be good for you to properly celebrate your birthday! I mean, I don’t think we can top last year’s celebration but we can try.” She winked at him, laughing as she kissed him from the stairs, so that she was the one leaning down. It was a mark of how used to her kisses he was by now that he responded without hesitation, despite feeling nothing. He wasn’t sure if she’d noticed that he was never the one to initiate them. He hoped she hadn’t.

Breaking the kiss and pushing Whitney gently away, Callum waved his hand towards the many pairs of shoes on the rack by the door.

“As much as I’d love to stay here, we need to go. Choose a pair and quick.” He placed a quick kiss against her forehead, as she walked down the final few steps and chose a pair of heels that looked more like stilts; Callum wondered, and not for the first time, how she managed to walk in them without falling over. Finally ready, she grabbed his hand,

“Let’s go celebrate you turning 21,” she declared, as she opened the front door, leading him outside.

Locking the door behind him, he held onto her hand on the short walk to E20, the local nightclub, Callum marvelled at the fact it had been two years since he’d met this girl who had changed his life. That, despite the constant thoughts he had to keep out of reach, she had stayed, he somehow made her happy, she made him happy in a way that he could accept without going insane, something always missing but there was a love there anyway. A love that he would be stupid to throw away. It may never give him what he truly wanted but he was as content as he needed to be. This is what he told himself. Constantly. It’s what he needed to tell himself to get through the day. It wasn’t Whitney’s fault. It was just the way it was.

As they arrived at the nightclub, Callum could see his old housemate in the distance, talking to a girl he didn’t recognise. Callum knew the minute he’d been spotted when he heard,

“HEYYY! MY MAN! IT’S BEEN TOO FUCKING LONG!” Shouted, at a ridiculously loud volume, in Callum’s direction.

He lifted a hand in greeting. Embarrassed as everyone turned in Hobbit’s then his direction, yet relieved to see his friend hadn’t changed in the slightest, despite the fact that seeing him brought up fresh memories of Chris and the fun times they’d had before everything had turned stale.

“Hey, Hobbit! How ya doing?”

“I am excellent. This is Ruby. I’m in love already, we’re going to get married. She doesn’t know it yet but she will soon. Ruby, this is Callum. It’s his birthday today, tomorrow, yesterday… At some point. It’s soon.”

Callum rolled his eyes,

“I apologise for my friend.” He directed at the girl Hobbit had just introduced him to.

Ruby looked at Hobbit, then at Callum,

“No apology needed. I think he’s sweet, if not deluded!” She laughed. “And happy birthday, whenever that may be!” She laughed again.

“It’s tomorrow.” Whitney answered for him. “He hates celebrating though, so tonight me and Harley here are gonna show him a good time. I’m Whitney. Thanks for the introduction, Hobbit!”

“My apologies, m’lady.” Hobbit, in his usual comedic tone, presented a mock-bow in Whitney’s direction.

“Idiot!” Callum scoffed, “I ain’t half missed you! Let’s go get ourselves some drinks and you can catch me up on how uni’s going!”

“It has been lovely talking to you but, alas, I must take my leave,” Hobbit professed, taking hold of Ruby’s hand and kissing it, who giggled.

“Nice to meet you too. Hopefully see you in there later?”

Callum laughed at the look on Hobbit’s face, clearly not expecting anything to come of his actions.

“You bet!” He said, looking at Callum, eyes wide. “Right, let’s go, see you later Rubes!”

“Rubes won’t become a thing.” She laughed, as he turned towards the club.

“Right, drinks on me for the birthday boy and his better half!” Hobbit declared as they entered onto the dance floor. “Tell me what you want, then go grab that table.”

Ensuring Hobbit had their drink orders correct, Whitney made her way to the toilet as Callum headed to the table, turning at the tap on his shoulder, surprised to see Hobbit had followed him.

“I’m getting drinks in a sec. Whit’s not here and I’m gonna be quick but, Callum, please, talk to Chris. He misses you. He never says it out loud but I can see it, sense it, constantly. I don’t know what happened between you two and, like I said at Christmas, I never asked. It wasn’t my place but you were best friends. I know you miss him too.”

Callum had known this would happen; he just wasn’t prepared for it to be so soon.

“I can’t, Harley, please. Just leave it. Please.”

“I know you miss him too.” Hobbit repeated. “Text him, ring him, I don’t care, but please talk to him. It’s not too late to be fixed. He wants it to be fixed. I can tell. He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Hobbit, I really am but it’s too late.”

Hobbit sighed, “you can’t say I didn’t try. Right. Drinks! I’ll be back.”

Callum slumped at the table, forehead in his hands, focussing on his breathing, trying not to cry; his default reaction to any prolonged thought about Chris.

Whitney still wasn’t back. He grabbed his phone. Chris’ number still in his favourites list. He stared at it, without blinking, until it blurred in his hand.

Breathing deeply, he opened his texts. Typing out a message to the man who constantly swam in the periphery of his mind, he pressed send before he could change his mind.

_Callum: I’m sorry I couldn’t be more for you. (sent 21:03)_

Shoving his phone back into his pocket as Whitney arrived back at the table, Callum vowed to forget what had just occurred and focus on getting very drunk.

As Hobbit arrived back at the table with his pint, he took a long drink.

“YES, MY MAN! LET’S GET WASTED!”

Callum laughed, “never change mate, never change!”

A few hours later and he was drunk. He knew he was. Too drunk. His façade was slipping; mask not held as firmly in place as it usually was. He wasn’t paying enough attention to Whitney; he honestly had no idea where she’d gone and he was making no effort to try and hunt her down. Hobbit had left with Ruby not that long ago, with a promise to catch up sooner rather than later, and now, there was a guy across the bar who kept sending quite obvious looks his way and Callum was _trying_ to avert his gaze. He was. It was just… The guy was looking at him so it was only fair if he looked back. The guy winked, gesturing towards the back corner where Callum knew the bathrooms were. He felt his cheeks burn, as Whitney reappeared, out of nowhere, arms wrapping round his neck, kissing him as she always did. Out of the corner of his eye, Callum saw the guy’s eyebrows raise as he walked away. Callum should have been happy about it, not feel this rush of disappointment flow through him. _It’s just the alcohol,_ he told himself, pushing it into the corner of his mind that was usually just reserved for memories of Chris.

“Where have you been? You’ve been lost! Now you’re not lost. I think you’re amazing. Are you amazing? Am I amazing? I love you. So… fucking much.” Whitney, clearly also drunk, rambled against his lips.

Callum’s brain raced; he was meant to say yes. Whitney. Girlfriend. Love. Amazing.

“Love. Amazing. You. Yes.”

She laughed, nudging his nose with her finger.

“You’re drunk. But it’s your birthday, so we’ll let you. You having a good time?”

He was too far gone to notice the irony in her statement, considering she was as drunk as he was, replying when his brain caught up with what she’d said,

“Hmm, good time, yeah…”

It wasn’t a complete lie. She went to kiss him. He let her, trying to ignore the feelings the look of the guy across the bar had brought back to the forefront of his mind. Trying to forget that he still hadn’t received a reply from Chris and he probably never would and that had to be ok because he was the one who’d ruined it. She was deepening their kiss and Callum found himself wondering if he could get out of having sex with her tonight by being too drunk. He decided he was going to have a few more drinks just to be on the safe side. He pulled away from her.

“Another drink?” Whitney nodded,

“Yeah, one more than we should go?”

“Yeah, I’ll get them.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he was ordering their drinks. He added a shot of tequila onto his order. Retrieving his phone, he noted the time and looking at the screen, he inhaled sharply.

_Chris: Happy Birthday, Callum. (received 00:00)_

Callum clutched his phone to his chest, blinking back tears, sensing somehow, without any confirmation or other words from Chris, that this would be the last time he would hear from him. Another birthday he wanted to forget; 21 just another number in the ever-increasing disaster that was his life. He downed the tequila, ordered himself two more and deleted the text. He’d regret drinking so much in the morning but right now, he refused to cry so alcohol was the only choice. He downed the two shots, paid for his drinks and headed back to Whitney with a shuddering breath, realising just how lonely he felt despite her constant, never-ending presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it will end with Callum and Ben together... But they won't meet until one of the later chapters, Callum has to go through his feelings for Chris and a relationship with Whitney first!


	4. 2013 - 22nd Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2013 - Callum and Whitney's relationship isn't working.

**2013 – 22 nd Birthday**

Locking the bathroom door behind him, Callum leant against the sink, banging against it with both hands forcefully and letting out a groan. He sank to the floor, arms resting on raised knees, head down, trying to work out how his life had come to this. Hiding in his own bathroom to get some space from the woman he was supposed to love.

Tomorrow would mark his 22nd birthday and, because he had to work, Whitney was insisting on celebrating today. Callum wanted the day to pass by as if it were no different to any other; go back to a simpler time before his own continuous mental conflict, when _celebrating_ meant a cheap cake from Tesco and a takeaway. He hadn’t spoken to the Carters since he started uni, wanting to start a new life away from his past. It wasn’t going well for him so far and he was beginning to regret cutting off his friendship with his makeshift family.

He'd been arguing with Whitney about a whole lot of things over the past year and his birthday was the current subject of contention; it was wearing Callum down.

It had started off with minor issues, like Whitney’s insistence on leaving her dirty dishes on the side in the kitchen rather than washing them straight away, which drove Callum insane, Whitney getting snappy when Callum left crumbs in the butter, Callum fuming when he found more of Whitney's hair clogging the shower plug hole. This quickly escalated. Traits about Whitney that he used to find endearing, such as her laugh, now grated on him, too high-pitched and feminine, and when he told her to “tone it down”, she’d been far from impressed. He was finding intimacy a chore again, despite going through a period where he’d accepted it as being a part of his life. He knew it was his problem, deep down he was surprised this hadn’t happened sooner but it was beginning to affect Whitney and it wasn’t bothering him as much as he realised it probably should.

The first sign that she wasn’t coping was when she stopped dying her hair. She used to always make sure it was a brilliant, vibrant red, recently, it was dull, roots showing through. When he'd asked her about it, she’d just huffed and said it was nice of him to notice. He probably deserved it. Her eyes were getting darker, she wasn’t sleeping and she’d finally stopped trying to initiate any kind of affection, apparently getting the hint that Callum was never really in the mood and would constantly shrug her off with a mumbled, “not tonight, Whit.”

He was struggling with his own inner turmoil and he was pulling Whitney down with him. He wasn’t sure there was a right solution to any of it, except maybe to end the relationship, which was a decision he’d been toying with. If he ended it, that would mean more time alone with his thoughts. Whilst Whitney was there, at least he could convince himself he definitely did not find men attractive.

“Callum?” Whitney’s voice cut through his thoughts, travelling up the stairs, frustration evident in her tone.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.” He sighed, standing and, splashing his face with water, resigned himself to the conversation they were bound to have.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Whitney questioned, the minute he entered the living room. He bristled.

“Nothing. I’ve told you.” He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm so that this didn’t become yet another heated exchange.

“Callum, we have to do something for your birthday. It’s tradition.”

“It’s your tradition.” He retorted, fed up of going over the same topic, moving to sit on the sofa, half facing away from her.

“Callum, I met you on a night out _for_ your birthday.” Eyebrows furrowing, as they always did when she thought he was being ridiculous. He was seeing that face more and more these days.

“And as I’ve told you before, it wasn’t my choice!” Turning his head in her direction, leaving out the semantics that, although it wasn’t originally his choice, he was the one who had decided on that particular club because it was loud and he knew he'd be able to avoid any kind of in-depth conversation. He was aware that his voice was getting louder but this argument had been recycled too many times this past week.

“We went out last year! I know you say you don’t like your birthday but you were enjoying yourself, me, you, Hobbit, until you drank too much. We don’t have to do that this year; we could just go out for a meal or something. Just us? It'll be good for you, for us, to get out.”

He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to keep calm himself, feeling the familiar feelings of frustration and anger growing in his chest, threatening to burst out. Trying to forget the events surrounding his last few birthdays, wanting just to stay in, eat shit food and drown his sorrows in alcohol without having to think about the occasion.

“Please, Whit, give it a rest. I’m sick of you thinking you know what’s best for me. I know what’s best for me and I don’t want to go out. I just want to stay in.” He rubbed his eyes, accepting the inevitable fact that this conversation was definitely going to escalate.

“You never want to go out and when we _do_ have a night in, it’s like you don’t want me anywhere near you!” Callum winced. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You flinch every time I come near you. What’s going on, Cal?”

Anger rushing through him at the sound of his shortened name, he jumped up from where he was sat.

“How many times! Don’t call me that!”

His words echoed throughout the room, loud and full of rage, as Whitney flinched. He knew his reaction was completely out of proportion but this time of year always resulted in memories of Chris rising to the surface, memories that he could usually keep in check bubbling over, resulting in spillage. He struggled with her calling him Chris' name for him at the best of times. He hadn’t had closure, not really and he was full of regret. He wanted to explain everything to Chris. He just wasn’t at the point in his life where he could accept that part of himself yet. It was something he knew he needed to do but he kept putting it off, hoping that the passage of time would dim the ache. He was beginning to realise that time was just making it burn inside him more. The pull was getting stronger every day.

“What the hell, Callum? I’m fed up of this. I’m going for a walk and when I get back, I hope you’re in a better mood.” She stalked away from him, grabbing her coat and heading to the front door.

“Oh, yeah, walk away, like you always do,” he fired back, knowing it was unfounded and unfair but needing to say _something._

She spun to face him, face hard, eyes blazing.

“How dare you?” Voice quieter but simmering with anger. “I’m the one to walk away? Callum, you’ve been hiding away from your problems from the moment I met you. I left it. He’ll tell me when he’s ready, I thought. You never did. But still I left it. Because you were happier, or so it seemed. We were happy. I thought. Something’s happened in the last year, Callum. I don’t know what but it’s like you’ve reverted back to 19-year-old you. And I don’t know if I can take much more!”

Callum sighed, not realising just how much Whitney had noticed in the past, that she was aware there was so much he wasn’t telling her, just how much they’d both left unsaid. He knew what had changed in the past year; a simple message from Chris, a simple Happy Birthday, the realisation that there was definitely no going back. Thoughts of _“what if”_ constantly swirling round his mind. He needed to get back on more even ground, before either of them said anything they'd fully regret.

“Whit… Let’s not do this yeah. Just… Come and sit down, we can watch TV, get a takeaway. We can celebrate, just me and you, try and get back to what we used to be, what d’ya say?” 

“Callum...” She shook her head, eyes cast downwards. “We can’t just keep brushing everything under the carpet and not have a proper talk. It’s not feas...”

She stopped as Callum's phone began to ring, “Hobbit” displayed on the screen.

“Answer it.” Whitney sighed, moving to sit down across from him.

“Hey, Hobbit. How you doing? How’s Ruby?”

“HALFWAY MY MAN!” Callum moved the phone away from his ear, as his friend's usual loud volume sounded down the line. “We’re good! Your better half informed Ruby that we’re going out to celebrate you, birthday boy! Just wanting to check the time. Ruby is insisting she needs enough time to get ready, you know what women are like and Whitney ain’t answering her phone!”

Incredulous, Callum sent a glare at Whitney's, mouthing _seriously_ in her direction. She avoided his gaze, turning her head and looking out of the window behind her. He scoffed.

“Erm, sorry, Hobbit. I didn’t realise Whitney had already mentioned it. There’s been a change of plan. I’m not up for it tonight, working tomorrow ain’t I? Come into the restaurant tomorrow night though and we can catch up then? I’ll book us a table for 6 once I’ve clocked off, if you’re up for it?”

“Oh. Ruby will be gutted! She was looking forward to seeing you both. You sure you’re not up for a couple?”

“Yeah, sorry to let you down, mate. Like I said, I didn’t realise Whitney had already mentioned it.” He directed the latter end of the sentence in Whitney's direction, as she studiously continued to stare at nothing outside their window.

“Erm, ok...” Having clearly picked up on his tone, Callum instantly regretted bringing Hobbit into his current argument.

“So, tomorrow sounds good! Me and Rubes will probably still head out tonight though. Met a year ago today, din't we? If you change your mind, or you need me for anything, give me a shout though, yeah?”

“Will do, thanks, Hobbit. Cya tomorrow mate.”

“I mean it, Callum, I’m here, if you need me. Anytime.”

“I know. Thanks, Harley. Really.”

Harley coughed, heading back to safer ground,

“Right then Halfwit, I shall see you and your goofy face tomorrow! I bid you adieu!”

Callum smiled slightly as Hobbit hung up, he was a good friend and Callum had a feeling he may have to take him up on the offer of a listening ear tomorrow. He stood, irritation evident, pacing in front of the sofa, pent up feelings spilling over,

“Why do you never listen? I don’t want to go out, I don’t want a reminder that it’s my birthday. How many times in how many different ways do you expect me to say it, Whit? Every single year, for as long as I can remember, the day has been tinged with hurt or shame or some other emotion that I just want to forget and I can’t do it anymore! I just want to _stay. Here!_ How many times, Whit? How many fucking times? _”_ He punctuated the final words.

He saw Whitney's features grow dark as she stood to meet him in the middle of the room.

“Every year? So you didn’t enjoy the year we met, or the year we finally slept together or last year’s night out? You’re telling me that meeting me wasn’t a reason to enjoy your special day? You know Callum, I never realised just how selfish you were!”

Callum scoffed, realising it wasn’t entirely her fault that she was oblivious to all the underlying pain and guilt every one of those moments held but while there were many reasons to call him selfish, his feelings surrounding his birthday was not one of them.

“You have no fucking idea!” He let out on a humourless laugh. “You ain't the be all and end all of how much I enjoy something, Whitney!”

“Oh, screw you!” Whitney inhaled sharply, sitting back down and letting out quickly, on a breath. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”

Callum laughed, scornfully, not really thinking and verbalising the first words that came to mind.

“I haven’t been sure since the day I met you!” He realised what he’d said, as Whitney’s face changed, anger gone, replaced with hurt and realisation. He also realised they were probably the first fully truthful words he’d ever uttered in her direction since the day they’d met.

“Nice to know what you really think, Callum.” She said with a grim smile, rising from her chair. “I think it’s best I go now.”

“Whit, please, I didn’t…” He knew it was a lost cause, petering off.

“You did, and that’s the sad thing.” She sighed, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I think… It’s best I go. I think it’ll be best for both of us if I’m not here tomorrow.”

Callum knew she was right and the guilt intensified, making him angry once more.

“Yeah, Happy Birthday, Callum!” He said softly, voice laced with sarcasm, as he watched a single tear make its way down Whitney's cheek.

“Yeah, and I hope it’s a good one.” She walked away, clearly holding back sobs, hand over her mouth. Callum knew he should go to her, console her in some way, but he didn’t know how.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. She stopped.

“Me too. Me too.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks now and she made no effort to wipe them away as she looked at him. “I’ll come back for my stuff soon. I’m going to Bianca’s, if you need me before then, but Callum, this is it.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes. “I… I did love you, Whit, in my own way. You know that, right.”

“I know.” She walked towards him, placing her hand behind his neck and pulling him towards her, kissing his forehead. She reached up to her own neck, unclasping the chain of the necklace she had worn constantly since the day he'd presented it to her the year before. She took hold of his hands, pressing the necklace into it and folding his fingers around it. She squeezed his hand once, before nodding and turning towards the front door.

Callum sat back on the sofa, head in hands as he heard the door open.

“Happy Birthday, Callum.” She murmured, as the door closed behind her.

 _Just another birthday to add the scrap heap,_ he thought with a heavy sense of derision. Looking at the necklace still entangled in his fingers, he felt guilt rise to the surface; the only emotion he felt in regards to his 2-and-a-half-year relationship ending was relief.


	5. 2014 - 23rd Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2014 - Hobbit comes over to Callum's flat and they reminisce about their time at uni.

**2014 – 23 rd Birthday**

“Hey, Hobbit, it’s Callum. I just wondered if you wanted to come round, help me drown my sorrows. No worries if you’re busy, or if you’re out with Ruby, or you just don’t… anyway, yeah, it’s just, it’s been a year since, you know and tomorrow’s my birthday and I just… Anyway, yeah, sorry, I’m going on. Let me know.” Callum ended the call, rolling his eyes at his inability to leave a voicemail message.

He could really do with the company tonight, he just hoped Hobbit was free. The only other friend he spoke to regularly was Tina, a new waitress at the restaurant where he worked. She’d joined the company four months ago and she’d become his rock. Unfortunately, she was on the rota to work tonight and he was not. She’d tried to convince him to meet her so they could go drinking after she’d gotten off shift but she had quickly given up on that idea at the glare he had given her. He just wanted to stay home and get drunk, with his bed a stone's throw away. Drunk enough that he could forget tonight and sleep through tomorrow. Which reminded him, he really needed to move from his position on the sofa and actually go and buy the alcohol he needed for that to happen.

He dragged himself into his bedroom, dressing quickly, not caring about his appearance, shoving on whatever he picked up first.

Collecting his phone from the sofa, triple checking he had his keys so he didn’t have a repeat performance of the previous week when he'd locked himself out and grabbing his jacket, he headed out, as his phone buzzed in his hand.

_Hobbit: Halfway!!! So glad to hear from you...its been too long! Just got your message. Cant talk right now but I am there with bells on! LET’S GET WASTED MY FRISND! Ruby’s out tonight. I am all yours! See your goofy mug later! Mwah! (received 14:19)_

Callum laughed. It didn’t matter how long it was between their catch-ups, in this case 3 months, it was like they’d never been apart. Hobbit never changed; a constant, similar presence in his life. He didn’t know what he’d do without him. His phone buzzed again.

_Hobbit: what time do you want me? (received 14:23)_

_Callum: Can’t wait to see you. I intend on drinking my body weight in alcohol later, consequences be damned. (sent 14.25)  
Come round for about half 6? I’ll cook us something, remind us of the good old days? (sent 14.26)_

_Hobbit: YES! With you all the way! FOOD – always. I have missed your cooking., Ruby is terrible. Whatever you do, don’t tell her I said that… (received 14:30)_

Feeling a little lighter, Callum realised just how much he missed his friend.

_Callum: See you later! My lips are sealed! Haha! (sent 14:35)_

Arriving at the shop, Callum filled his basket with more bottles of beer than he should ever need and added a bottle of vodka for good measure, apologising in advance to his liver.

Placing his items onto the conveyor belt, Callum’s eye was drawn to the shop assistant, striking blond hair standing out against tanned skin, who was ringing through his items with a look of supreme boredom on his face. However, Callum’s brain helpfully supplied, _the guy was fit._ Callum grimaced, having difficulty pushing the thought back where it came from, wishing the guy would just _hurry up_ so he could pay and get out of there.

“£38.49,” _Fit Guy_ droned, sounding as bored as looked.

Paying quickly, resolutely not looking the guy's way, Callum shoved the bottles into bags and hurried out of the shop.

Once back at the flat, with the beer safely in the fridge, he set out preparing what had fast become his signature recipe; the chicken pasta dish that had become a running joke between himself and Hobbit during their second year. His mind brought back fresh memories of the two of them and Chris during happier times, before _The Incident_ complicated things. Times he had forgotten. _Maybe_ , he thought to himself, _it was time to remember those days with fondness._ Let them become happier memories again, rather than ones tinged with sadness. He wondered if Hobbit coming round could be a good thing, give them time to talk about their past, maybe it was a way for Callum to move on.

Adding the final garnishes to the pasta sauce, he placed the lid on the pan and moved towards the bathroom, contemplating whether he’d have time for a quick shower so that he’d look halfway presentable when Hobbit arrived.

He quickly undressed, turning the shower on and allowing the warm water to slide down his shoulders. He moved his head back under the spray, releasing the tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Relaxed by the quiet, calming sounds of water against tiles, his mind supplied an image of a bored face with bright blonde hair and he moved his hand lower, giving into the sensation. Callum had made this pact with himself a few months after Whitney had left; he allowed himself one moment per new face he found attractive then the memory was banished to the corner of his mind that dealt with these _urges._ He had decided this was him making progress, he no longer allowed himself to feel guilty, so long as he didn’t think of it again.

Exiting the shower, drying himself off and dressing in more presentable clothing than when he’d left the house earlier, he re-entered the kitchen living area, looking around in horror as he realised just how much he'd neglected tidying over the past week. The flat looked like a bomb had hit it and, checking the time, Hobbit was due at any minute. He dashed around, cursing himself, as he shoved dirty clothes that had been strewn over the back of the sofa into the unused laundry basket and a number of unopened letters, scattered across various worktops, into the junk drawer in his bedroom. The place was finally looking like something half-resembling tidy when the doorbell rang. Callum took one last quick look around, grabbing the dirty plate from the coffee table and throwing it into the sink, before answering the door, preparing for his friends welcome, knowing, as ever, it would be something suitably dramatic.

“THE DEVIL HIMSELF HAS ARRIVED! Lock up your souls!” Hobbit entered, arms wide, dragging Callum into a half hug. “For you, my devilish fiend!”

He held out a bottle of whisky, Callum grinned,

“I ain't half missed you!”

“Likewise! We need to do this more often. I know we say it all the time. But we should!”

“You’re not wrong! It would be good to see you more often. Where’s your Ruby tonight anyway?”

Hobbit looked down at his shoes.

“Ah, she’s, erm... wi’ Whit, mate. Sorry, she rang and... Ruby wanted to be there for her.”

Callum nodded, could sense his thoughts darkening, falling into the chasm of all the mistakes he’d made over the past few years. He smiled tightly,

“It’s fine. Honestly, Harley, I’m glad she’s not alone tonight. Anyway, sit yourself down. Dya want a drink? Food should be ready!”

“Cheers, Callum, I’ll have a beer, thanks, you have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to a Callum cooked feast. It has been far too long, eating your restaurant food does not count. What you made for me today?”

Grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge, he passed them to Hobbit who opened them as he served the food.

“Chicken Pasta Delight,” he sent a smirk in Hobbit's direction as he heard his friend's short laugh, “let’s go sit down, enjoy and catch up!”

“Ain't this a blast from the past! I remember you trying to get this just right during second year,” Hobbit commented, as he began to eat. “You used to get so frustrated because something always used to go wrong!”

“I remember finally getting it right and being so ecstatic! This dish got me a first for that assignment. I’ve never been so pleased! I needed that grade after so long practising the bugger!”

Hobbit looked at him, consideration clear on his face,

“Do you miss uni, Callum? Ruby was saying how much she missed her uni years the other day. It got me thinking, I had so much fun first year but everything changed so quickly, I’m not sure I fully enjoyed it the way I always thought I would, you know?”

Callum sucked in a breath, unsure how to answer, not expecting the question. Before he could respond, Hobbit placed his palm against his forehead, groaning,

“Sorry! Sorry! I've done it again. I’m being a prize class douche. I’m here to help you forget all the shit. I’m bringing up the shit! Forget I asked, let’s talk about something else.”

Callum willed himself to answer, keep the topic of conversation going. He had wanted to talk about uni and happier times, maybe this was an opening into it.

“No, it’s… I think I need to talk about it actually. I’m the same, I think. Beginning of first year, it was like a dream. It was something I’d never really had, friends, properly away from my family for the first time, a chance to move on. But then, yeah, things went downhill and I hated it to be honest.”

Hobbit just nodded in agreement. Neither of them had mentioned Chris by name. Callum knew it was only a matter of time and he concluded he was the one who had to bring it up. _Remember fondly_ , his thoughts insisted. He took a deep breath, hoping Hobbit wouldn’t want to discuss the events that had caused their falling out. Hobbit still in the dark as to what had transpired, the side of himself Callum tried to keep hidden, the side that was getting closer and closer to bursting out of him.

“I was wondering, earlier,” He took a bite of his food, delaying the inevitable, “when was the last time you saw Chris? How is he?”

Hobbit looked at him in shock,

“Halfway. Callum, I thought... You don’t know? I haven’t spoken to or seen Chris in about two years.”

Callum's mind was racing. Everything he thought he knew, crashing down, he was sure Hobbit was still friends with them both of them. A friend for Chris as much as he was a friend for him. It made Callum feel less guilty, knowing someone was there for his once best friend.

“What? Two years? Why? I thought...”

Downing his beer, he went to get another, reverting back to his original plan to get as drunk as possible. His head a jumbled mess of past imaginings and current truths trying to amalgamate. He regretted bringing Chris up, regretted thinking they could have this discussion.

“Want one?” He asked, holding the bottle up, grabbing another at Hobbits hum of confirmation.

Sitting back down, he looked at his friend,

“Sorry, I just assumed you were... You don’t have to...”

Hobbit picked at the paper on the bottle, not looking Callum in the eye,

“I can explain. If you want to know. Just, you might wanna drink a few more beers and I really don’t think its gonna help your long standing unhappy relationship with your birthday...”

Callum closed his eyes, taking another long swig of beer, before nodding.

“I’d like to know.”

“Ok, well, I got home from our night out, you know, for your 21st, the morning after cos you know, Ruby... He wasn’t himself, more so than normal anyway, and when I asked him about it, he just said you'd messaged him to apologise but it was too late and it wasn’t what he needed to hear anyway. I was part relieved you’d tried to speak to him but curious as to how an apology could apparently make things worse, so I mentioned I’d asked you to speak to him and he flipped. I’d never seen him so angry. Told me I should have just left it alone and how it had nothing to do with me. I tried to explain I thought I was helping but he refused to speak to me after that. He moved out not long after. I didn’t know where he'd gone and he ignored every message or phone call I sent his way. So yeah...”

Callum sighed, another thing he’d managed to fuck up. He thought he was helping Chris to move on, instead he’d made things worse, as always.

“I’m so sorry, Harley. I screwed up.”

Hobbit shook his head, adamantly.

“S'not your fault. Honest. I asked you to speak to him. You apologised. It clearly wasn’t what he needed but I shouldn’t have interfered. Anyway, we’re still here, ain’t we?”

He raised his bottle to Callum, who moved his forwards, clinking them together. They drank in silence for a while, both lost in thought, Callum's guilt making an unwelcome return. Finally, Hobbit spoke up,

“Halfway, I’ve been wanting to ask this since... God, for years, since first year. I wasn't stupid, you know. I know I act it at times, I find it easier to deal with things that way but one minute you and Chris, you were best friends, closer than that even, the next you couldn’t even look each other in the eye, and I never asked, never mentioned it. It wasn’t my place and I wasn’t that close to either of you at that point, not really... but I know something happened. You don’t have to tell me, it was clearly something neither of you wanted to discuss at the time, but... what happened between you two, mate? What was so bad that it messed things up so drastically?”

Callum had been expecting this question for years and he knew, deep down, that this was the natural progression of the conversation they were having. He was surprised it hadn’t been asked of him sooner but to finally hear Hobbit say the words, Callum wasn’t sure _how_ to answer. He wasn’t sure he could tell the truth, even if he wanted to, was it even his truth to tell? He went to take a drink, finding his bottle empty again.

“I need another.”

Grabbing two more bottles, he looked past Hobbit, staring out of the window behind him, deliberating where to begin, wishing he'd shut this conversation down before it started and deciding university reminiscing definitely wasn’t what he needed after all.

“I missed him so much after we fell out. We were in the same place, doing the same things, following the same routines but nothing was the same. It was like we were both revolving around the same sun but going in opposite directions. I wish I’d had the courage to just… But it was too late and I… I fucked up. I keep thinking that one day, I’ll try and find him again, just to apologise properly. Explain myself. I’m just not sure that part of me is fully ready to come out yet.”

He was very aware that it didn’t really answer the question and that he may have inadvertently given away the part of himself that was screaming to be heard, regardless of how much he tried to stifle and quieten it. He took another drink, hand shaking, as Hobbit looked at him, as if something had finally clicked into place.

“What are you saying, Callum?”

He could say it. Just say the words. Hobbit was his closest friend. If anyone would accept it, it would be him. This could be his chance. He could feel the words, clamouring to get out, just as his Dad and Stuart's voices rang, loud and clear, shutting the thoughts down, choking him, _no son of mine will be like that! You best not be a fairy! That’ll knock some sense into you, boy!_

“Nothing, I just mean, I miss him sometimes. It was my fault. I can’t even remember why we fell out properly, I said something, it pissed him off. I didn’t apologise, I should have.”

Hobbit didn’t push, but Callum could see that he didn’t fully believe him. He needed to change topic. He couldn’t do this.

“Right! Right now, I need to not think about Chris, or Whitney, or my birthday, and just have another drink, so let’s do what you came here to do and get really fucking drunk! What dya say?”

Hobbit grinned widely, accepting the change of topic.

“I never say no to alcohol, Halfwit, never! I say we crack open that whisky!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Almost a full bottle of whisky later and Callum was sure he could feel the Earth moving under his feet.

“Dirty little Hobbitses, you are good to Callum. Callum appreciates you.”

“Hah! Mateee, you are wasted! I think I need to go and you need to go to bed! It’s been great to see you.” They both stood, facing each other. Callum couldn’t work out whether it was him or Hobbit who was swaying. He decided it was him.

“Remember, Halfway, if you ever want to tell me anything. Or if you remember what you said to Chris and want to get it out. I’m always here for you. _Always.”_

There was something in his tone that made Callum think Hobbit was referring to something important. He tried to focus his thoughts to work out what that was but it wasn’t happening. He just knew the night had been a success. He was very drunk. He could sleep tomorrow away. Good things happen sometimes.

_Ironally, no, ironicilily, no... irony this birthday wasn’t the worst._

Hobbit laughed,

“Not sure what’s ironic about that, mate, but I’m glad to hear it!”

Uh. Callum wasn’t sure he’d said that out loud. Maybe he did.

“Bed. I need a bed.”

He sat himself back down on the sofa, attempting to lay down.

“Why is my bed too short, Harley Hobbit?”

Hobbit laughed, shaking his head fondly,

“Come on, I’ll get you upstairs!”

Grabbing Callum by the arms, Hobbit pulled back to his feet. After a lot of effort, he managed to deposit Callum on his bed, before placing a glass of water and some tablets on the bed side table. Callum wasn’t sure where he’d got them from but he was glad his friend was sensible.

“Thank you Hobbitses.” He said, yawning, fighting to keep his eye open.

“Anytime. I hope one day, Callum, that you find something, _someone_ who will allow you to feel a little of the enjoyment most people experience on their birthday.”

Already half asleep, Callum murmured something incomprehensible in response. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Hobbit’s whispered,

 _“Happy Birthday, Callum”,_ as he closed the bedroom door and exited the flat.


	6. 2015 - 24th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2015 - Callum is feeling happier than he has in years but then he receives an unexpected phone call.

**2015 – 24 th Birthday**

For the first time in his life, Callum wasn’t totally dreading his birthday and acknowledging this feeling was strange. A lot had changed over the past year, for the better. He still hadn’t fully come to terms with the thoughts and feelings he had but he had taken to whispering the words, _I am gay,_ in his head, whilst out in the park, alone. It didn’t terrify him as much as it used to.

Tina had come out to him and he'd asked her so many questions when he’d found out that he was sure she had to be suspicious but she hadn’t said anything. She'd just answered every question with a quiet smile. However, ever since, she had insisted he join her whenever she went to The Prince Albert, her local gay bar. At first, he had resisted, _what would people think?_ Until, eventually, he gave in. He even found he liked it there, despite the fact he would never tell her that. He somehow felt like he fit, didn't feel like what he was feeling was wrong, when everyone there lived those moments loud and proud, surrounding him in glorious technicolour.

He'd had many more occasions in the shower after those nights out, that specific corner of his mind was overflowing and he’d even allowed himself to think of the same person twice on occasion, if they _really_ caught his eye.

It was on one of these many nights out, last September, that Tina had met her girlfriend, Cassie. The three of them had quickly become a trio. They never made Callum feel left out, they were there for him when he needed them and he loved them both dearly. Hobbit was central to his life too but he wasn’t ready to let the two sides of his friendship group collide. Not yet. _Maybe in the future_ , he thought.

Hobbit was out with Ruby tonight, after checking numerous times that this was ok and insisting he would postpone if Callum needed him to. Callum had surprised himself when he realised he didn’t need the company, he didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to get drunk but he had felt a surge of love for the friend who had slowly become like a brother to him.

He'd even given in to Tina and Cassie's pleas to do something for his birthday, just a night at their flat on his actual birthday but he was looking forward to it. It was a slow process, he knew, but he was getting there.

Returning from a run in the local park, Callum had just let himself into the flat, when his phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, erm, is this Callum Highway?” The enquiry coming from a woman’s voice he didn’t recognise.

“Speaking.” Callum answered, warily, wondering whether he'd be told he had a virus on his computer, he’d been in a car crash or something else as ridiculous, intending to end the call.

“Oh, thank god.” The woman sounded relieved. Confusion washed over Callum.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just glad you haven’t changed your number!” She continued.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Yes, sorry, no... This is Vicky Kennedy. You knew my brother, Chris?”

Callum turned cold; the feeling of icy water being poured down the back of his neck washed over him, his legs turning to jelly. He made his way to the sofa, sitting down, trying to remain focussed.

Chris used to talk about Vicky non-stop when they’d first met and Callum remembered the two of them being close. Yet, he hadn’t had any kind of contact with Chris in three years; he didn’t understand why his sister would be contacting him, so many years later, and he couldn’t ignore the massive coincidence of the date.

“Callum? Are you there?”

Callum realised he’d been quiet for too long, he didn’t know what to say, he’d forgotten how to form words.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m here.” He said, weakly.

“Look, I… This is as strange for me as it must be for you. I don’t even know where to start. Chris said, mentioned, he hadn’t spoken to you for years but he asked me to contact you today, that it had to be this date. He didn’t say why, just that it was important.”

“He asked you to contact me, today?” Callum’s mind was racing, Chris must still think of… “I don’t understand. If he wanted to speak to me, why couldn’t he contact me himself?”

“I… He… I’m so sorry, Callum. I didn’t really want to have to tell you this over the phone. I’m calling because Chris is dead. He died 6 months ago.”

Callum gasped. His phone fell out of his hand, the sound of it landing on the wooden floor echoing through him, as his mind went into freefall. He felt the tears on his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching hands to either side of his head to try and block out the ringing in his ears. His thoughts were collapsing in on themselves and he was struggling to breathe. Images of Chris from years gone by, memories he had made himself forget, burning behind his eyelids, scorching him. He was being buried, dragged under, feeling like he was scratching at the surface, struggling to take in oxygen, needing something to pull him back onto solid ground but finding nothing.

_Chris’ hands on his shoulders._

_Chris’ breath on his cheek._

_Chris hugging him, holding on tightly, a second too long._

_Chris’ palm, pressed against heart, searing through his skin, leaving an invisible hand-shaped scar._

_Chris, falling down next to him on the sofa, a fraction too close but a welcomed presence._

_Hazel eyes, flecks of gold, a scar above a left eyebrow, warm, olive skin._

God, how Callum missed him and he’d left it too long, _I’ll find a way to apologise tomorrow,_ but tomorrow would never come now, he was too late.

His phone rang from its place at his feet, jolting him, helping to ground him back in the present. He recognised the number from before, Vicky calling him back. He wasn’t sure he was able to answer, his breathing still not fully returned to normal. He left it where it was, letting it ring out, as he forced himself to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of vodka and tonic from the cupboard and pouring himself an extra strong glass. He downed it, wincing as it hit the back of his throat, knowing he needed to stop using alcohol to numb the pain but it was what he needed right now. He poured himself another drink, heading back into the living room and retrieving his phone.

_(3) missed calls.  
(1) message._

Opening the message, he breathed deeply.

_Vicky: I’m so sorry, I should have handled that better. Please call me back. Let me explain. Or if you’re still in London, we can meet somewhere? (received 12:52)_

His finger hovered over the call button but he wasn’t quite sure he could trust himself to speak yet. Instead, he typed out a reply to the message before he could change his mind.

_Callum: I don’t think I could talk right now. But I can meet you later today? I’m in East London. Can meet you where ever is easiest, around 5?_

He stared at his phone, debating whether he should send it or just delete all evidence that she’d ever called him and try and move on, rejecting the idea almost instantaneously, knowing he needed answers. He hit send.

_(sent 13:19)_

The dots to show Vicky was replying appeared instantly. He took another drink, breathing finally back to something resembling normal. He considered phoning Hobbit, he was Chris’ friend too, but there was something in Vicky’s voice that made him think Chris' words, in this instance, were meant for him alone.

_Vicky: Thank you, I’m sorry, this is all just so difficult, Chris wanted it to be today. I would have contacted you sooner if it hadn’t been so important to him. I can meet you at Rosa’s in Westfield? (received 13:22)_

_Callum: See you there at 5 (sent 13.25)_

Callum dumped his phone on the sofa, palms pressed forcefully against his eyes, trying to resist the urge to scream. Thumping the seat and taking a deep, shuddering breath, he wished he’d had the chance to say a proper goodbye. Guilt reared its head and settled down in the pit of his stomach, joined by a wave of grief so strong it made him nauseous. He finished the last dregs of his drink, stumbling blindly to his bedroom as his breathing started to become erratic again. This couldn’t be real. Laying down on his bed, he curled himself into the foetal position, as he finally gave into the multitude of emotions raging through him, body overtaken by loud, racking, sobs, eventually falling into restless sleep.

He woke up sometime later, head pounding, feeling empty and disoriented, the memory of Vicky’s phone call suddenly rushing back, like a permanent siren, a constant noise. Realising he only had an hour before he was supposed to meet her, he dragged himself into the bathroom, took two painkillers to try and numb the pain in his head and turned on the shower, knowing he needed to look somewhat presentable.

Washing and dressing quickly, he stared at himself in the mirror, feeling older than he looked. He sighed, grabbing his phone and leaving the flat. Dreading what was going to come next.

He reached _Rosa’s_ early, ordering himself a coffee and sitting himself down at an empty table, wondering how he’d know when Vicky arrived, he had no idea what she looked like. He doubted she’d know him.

“Coffee?” A waitress enquired, placing the mug on the table next to him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, clasping his hands around the mug of steaming liquid, cherishing the slight burn, allowing it to ground him, stopping him from spiralling again. Looking up whenever the door of the café opened, head dropping again when the person entering clearly wasn’t Vicky.

He was debating whether to text her, to let her know he was already here when the door of the café opened again. As he looked up, his heart stopped, he felt it stutter, taking a gasping breath. There was no doubt that the woman who had entered was Chris’ sister. She was the spitting image of his old friend, down to the hazel eyes. She was too far away to determine whether they had flecks of gold but he was sure they would be there, so similar to the eyes that could look right through him, that had plagued his dreams so long ago. He never thought he’d see those eyes again. He half raised his hand in her direction, as something close to recognition flickered across her face as she caught his eye. He breathed deeply, taking a long gulp of coffee as she sat down across from him.

“Do you want a dr-“  
“Thank you for-“

They both stopped, laughing awkwardly, as they spoke over each other. She gestured towards him,

“Do you want a drink?” He asked, wanting to get away for a second.

“Erm, I’ll have a black coffee, thanks. Callum,” she stopped him. “Thank you. For meeting me, I mean. It means a lot to me. It would have meant a lot to Chris.”

He nodded, smiling lightly, not trusting himself to speak.

Once he’d ordered her coffee, he realised there was no way he could keep delaying the inevitable. It was time to stop running away, once and for all. It was time for him to listen, to ask the questions he knew, she knew, he’d have.

Sitting back down across from her, she smiled, placing an envelope in front of him with his name and _“To be opened 24 th March” _written on the front in Chris’ handwriting. He placed his hand on the letters, stroking across his name, shaking his head sadly.

“Before you open it, I think I should explain.”

Callum nodded, looking back up at her, as a waiter placed her coffee on the table, enquiring if they needed anything else, before walking away again.

“Chris. Something happened, with you, back when he first started uni. I don’t know what, I just knew something did. He went from speaking about you all the time during our phone calls, to never mentioning you again over night. I asked him, multiple times, what had happened and he said it didn’t matter, every single time, so I left it and all his stories related to his course and occasionally a guy called Harvey?”

Callum smiled,

“Hobbit? Harley, he’s called.”

“Yes! Harley. He mentioned him now and then, I know they lived together but then one day, he just came home. Said he was commuting from now on. He wasn’t the same, he just looked sad all the time; that’s when he decided he was joining the army. Said it was something he needed to do. He applied just before he graduated and he was enlisted by the new year. He loved it. Then, in June last year, he was deployed. He sent me a letter. He insisted that I was only to open it if anything happened to him. I used to insist it would remain unopened, refused to believe otherwise.” She stopped, taking a napkin to wipe away the tears staining her face. “Sorry. I’ve told this story in a number of different ways, so many times by now, you’d think I’d be immune.”

He shook his head, voice breaking, even as he tried to keep it level,

“Please. Don’t apologise. He was your brother. He was…” He trailed off, unsure how he wanted to finish the sentence.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “Anyway, he’d just got back from his tour of duty last September. He’d been out and was on his way home… The other driver was over the limit. Head on collision. He was pronounced dead at the scene. The irony that I had this letter, just in case he was killed in action but, here I was, opening it because a drunk driver had killed him around the corner from our house. Inside was that envelope, for you, and he asked me to make sure you got it. He left the last number he had for you. There was just one condition, I wasn’t allowed to contact you until the 24th March. It didn’t matter when I was reading my letter, I couldn’t speak to you until today. He didn’t say why but there was a continued insistence that this date was important to him, to you both.”

Callum was crying now, silently, his throat sore, his eyes stinging. He picked up the envelope, holding it close to his chest, not sure what he wanted the contents inside to say.

“I’ll give you a minute.” Vicky placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, as she rose from the table. He looked up, locking eyes with her properly for the first time.

“Your eyes,” he whispered, “they’re so like his.”

She smiled sadly at him.

“I get told that a lot. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back in a minute.” She pointed to the letter in his hands, leaving him alone.

Part of him wanted to wait until he was on his own, in the safety of his own flat, to read whatever Chris had written. The other part of him, the part that won, couldn’t wait. He unsealed the envelope as carefully as he could, pulling out the folded piece of paper inside. Nerves streaming through him, feeling terrified as he opened it out, flattening out the creases, handling it as if it was a piece of glass that could shatter at his touch.

He looked up at the ceiling, willing the tears away so that they wouldn’t stain the paper, _I’m sorry, Chris,_ he whispered into the air, before finally allowing himself to read the words, written in Chris’ delicate script.

_Callum, my Cal, if you’re reading this, it means I am no longer here, please know you were, and forever will be, in my thoughts. Love, Chris x_

_Time can go fast,_

_And time can go slow,_

_Yet, one thing time cannot do is stop._

_You can will it to stop,_

_With every fibre of your being,_

_So, you can stay in a moment_ ,

_Where words run dry._

_Where two hearts_

_Play their own special rhythm._

_Like the perfect moment_

_I had with you._

_We stood so close_

_Hardly daring to breathe._

_Swam in a sea of dreams,_

_Which only we were part of._

_It felt like time actually stood still._

_And maybe it did._

_If only for that one moment,_

_Where we existed together,_

_Flying like birds,_

_Floating on air._

_It was breath-taking._

_Time was ours._

_It had no concept._

_But before we knew it,_

_The perfect moment had been and gone._

_Time moved forwards,_

_Time moved on._

_I wish we could have stayed frozen,_

_A sculpture on the hands of time._

_The memory always blazing,_

_Flickering, always in sight,_

_Like the sun._

_I miss you,_

_I miss that moment,_

_It flew by in a heartbeat,_

_Gone in a second but treasured forever,_

_I believe everyone has a moment,_

_One single moment,_

_Where time actually does stand still._

_And, despite everything,_

_That one perfect moment with you is mine._

Callum read and reread the words in front of him, holding it away from him as his tears fell onto the table.

_It was special to me too. I promise. I’m sorry._

He folded the letter carefully back inside the envelope, placing it gently into his inside pocket, so it rested against his heart. He knew, then, that it was time to stop living in fear.

As Vicky arrived back at the table, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, focussing on the memory of Chris, of the words he had written.

“Thank you. For finding me, for finding me today.”

She took hold of his hand and he held on.

“You don’t have to tell me, Callum, it’s between you and Chris but, it would mean a lot to me, if you could tell me what was so important about this date?”

He nodded, placing his free hand over the letter, over his heart, grasping it for courage.

“Nothing ever happened between us, not really, but this date, five years ago today, something almost did. We just clicked, straight away. I remember seeing him for the first time and I’d never felt like that before. I just… I didn’t know what it was but I knew that it felt good. But I got scared, after we almost… I got scared and I pushed him away. I wish I was braver back then. I wish I’d done what I kept telling myself to do and get in touch. And now…” He stopped, a fresh wave of tears taking over once more. He placed a hand over his mouth, taking deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself.

Across from him, Vicky was wiping her own eyes.

“He loved you, you know, I know he did, and I think he understood, deep down. I’m glad I found you, Callum. He’d want you to have this, something to remember him by.”

She pressed Chris’ army beret into Callum’s hands. He tried to refuse,

“I couldn’t…”

“Please, take it. Do one thing for me though, Callum. Never forget him. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be unhappy. Live your life, your way. Life’s too short, Chris has showed us that. Be proud of who you are.”

She stood, walking around the table to press a kiss to his forehead,

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She whispered, as she walked away.

Leaving the café, he walked the short journey home, remembering happier times with Chris. Letting himself back into his flat, he felt emotionally drained; head throbbing again from the amount of tears he had shed. Today had been a rollercoaster and he was full of grief that he’d never had the chance to say a proper goodbye; his heart ached. However, despite all that, there was a relief there too, a weight that had definitely been lifted from his shoulders, he felt lighter than he had in years.

Later, as he got ready for bed, he remembered the last time he’d heard from Chris and smiled wistfully. The final text he had received three years ago,

_Chris: Happy Birthday, Callum._

Callum wished he’d kept it, wished it was still saved in his phone, he wished he’d responded. He’d missed out on the last years of Chris’ too short life and ruined their friendship because of his own self-hate. He sat on the edge of his bed, rereading the poem that Chris had written for him and holding it to his chest. He knew then what he had to do. He was going to honour Chris’ memory and live the way he would have wanted him to, albeit a few years too late. He was going to tell Tina, Cassie and Hobbit everything, the three people in his life he had come to rely on. He owed Chris that much at least.


	7. 2016 - 25th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2016 - Callum finally celebrates his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to get this chapter finished. However, work is now picking up again so it may take a little longer for the final three chapters, which will finally involve Ben!

**2016 – 25th Birthday**

_A hand moving lower. Kisses to his chest. Fingers tickling against his thighs. A bite to his neck. Fingers touching everywhere but the one place that needed attention. Scraping fingers down his back. Hard chest pressed against hard chest. Moaning. Wanting. Needing more._

Callum jerked awake, breathing heavily. Trying to work out what had interrupted the dream he'd been having.

The doorbell rang, followed by three loud knocks in quick succession. He groaned, grabbed his dressing gown, throwing it around him and willing his erection down.

The banging started up again.

“Alright. Alright! I’m coming!”

He made his way down the stairs and threw open the door, coming face-to-face with Tina and Cassie.

“Seriously?” He glared at them, “This had better be an emergency!”

“Callum, it’s almost 2 in the afternoon. Are you feeling o... Oh. My. God!” Tina stopped mid-speech, grabbing Callum’s chin and twisting his head to the side to get a better view of his neck. “Callum Highway! Is that a love bite?”

Callum felt himself flush, looking sheepish.

“I may have had company last night.” He mumbled. “No big deal.”

Cassie laughed loudly.

“Halfway, you dark horse!”

Callum wished the ground would swallow him whole, knowing they’d ask questions he really didn’t want to have to answer.

“Why are you even here? What’s the emergency?”

They stepped past him into the flat, ignoring him.

“Oh, please, do come in.” He muttered sarcastically, wrapping his dressing gown more tightly around himself. “So? What’s going on?”

“You’re working Saturday.” Tina stated, clearly not a question.

“Yeah?”

“This means we can’t celebrate your birthday tomorrow. I know you. You won’t want to go into work hungover. God knows why, it makes that place more fun.” She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, can't celebrate tomorrow means we celebrate today. We are going out tonight. You are going to have the best birthday you’ve ever had and Hobbit and Ruby are both in agreement. You, my darling friend,” She reached up, stretching, to pinch his cheeks, “have no choice in the matter!”

He looked at her, then to Cassie, eyes narrowed.

“This is an ambush.”

“Yup!” Cassie nodded in agreement.

“This past year, you’ve dealt with the grief of losing someone you loved, you’ve accepted who you are, you’ve _clearly_ lost your gay virginity,” Tina stopped, staring pointedly at the love bite on his neck.

“I didn’t... Not last night.” Callum said, sheepishly.

“You... You owe us details” Tina responded, looking at him with something close to suspicion in her eyes. “We will get details. As I was saying, you’ve _clearly_ accepted who you are, got a promotion at work Mr. Sous Chef, moved out of your flat into this place. Callum, you’ve come such a long way, now it’s time for you to reclaim your birthday. Enjoy this day!”

She moved towards him, placing her hands on his upper arms and squeezing gently.

“Celebrate you!”

Callum could feel the tears in his eyes, blinking them away before they could fall, as Tina stepped away from him again. He nodded at his two best friends, knowing that this past year had been a major turning point in his life. He had come out to his friends on his birthday, the day after meeting Vicky, determined to start the next year of his life with hope. He would always remember Tina and Cassie enveloping him in their arms, Tina whispering, “welcome to the club,” in his ear.

Telling Hobbit had been harder, not because he was worried about how he’d react but because he had to tell him about Chris at the same time. In the end, Hobbit had simply pulled him into a hug, no words needed, as Ruby stroked his back.

Later, they’d both told Ruby stories from their time at uni, reminiscing on better times, remembering Chris how he deserved to be remembered. He'd grown closer to Ruby that day too.

He knew she'd become one of Whitney's best friends over the past few years, making it clear he wouldn’t ask her to keep what he'd told her a secret. Ruby had simply told him it was his news to tell and her friendship with Whitney wasn’t going to affect her friendship with him. They'd both cried then, with Hobbit reverting back to his usual way of coping, “enough tears to sink the Titanic! Come on, guys, Jack and Rose had it harder!” It only made Callum love him more.

Throughout the year, whenever Callum felt overwhelmed, he'd take out the poem Chris had written for him, _Callum_ , _my Cal,_ reminding himself of the promise he had made. It had generally served him well.

A couple of months ago, he’d finally found the courage to go out alone to a gay bar in Central London, not wanting to risk bumping into Tina, Cassie or anyone else who may recognise him. That night he allowed himself to be pushed up against the wall of the dance floor, as lips were pressed to his. He'd kissed back for a second, before fleeing, his Dad's words rising to the surface for the first time in over a year. The tube ride home was accompanied by a million and one thoughts in his head, all fighting to claim first prize, to be the one that gained the most attention, the most acclaim. Kicking himself for allowing his Dad to dictate his life _still,_ kicking himself for stopping the kiss, kicking himself because his first kiss with a guy had been with someone whose name he didn’t even know, marvelling at how amazing the kiss was, despite it being over in seconds, analysing how different, how much better, it felt compared to kissing Whitney, stronger, harder, the feeling of stubble against his chin, wondering how he'd ever thought his relationship with Whitney was going to work.

He couldn’t get the short-lived kiss out of his head and it had been shower material for the next two weeks, until he found the courage to head back to the bar again.

It was during his fourth visit that he’d finally allowed himself to be pulled out of the club by the hand, a whispered,

“Come back to mine?”, in his ear, trembling as he nodded, _yes._

The guy, Steven, had picked up on his nerves and had been slow, tender, kind. That night was everything that his first time with Whitney was not, even though he hadn’t seen or spoken to Steven again, Callum knew he owed the man more than he’d ever realise.

Returning his attention back to Tina and Cassie, he nodded again, more firmly. _My birthday, my day, my life,_ he thought. Out loud, he said,

“Ok. Ok! We can go out. If it turns out shit, I’m never listening to the two of you again. Got it?”

Cassie shrieked, jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Well, that was easier than I thought!” Tina smirked, slapping him on the shoulder. “Right, get showered, no funny business, we'll be right here, get dressed, we’re meeting Hobbit and Ruby for food at Beale's in just under two hours, the restaurant near The Prince Albert, then the five of us are gonna drink our bodyweight in alcohol!”

“In two... You couldn’t give me proper warning about this because...?”

“Because it would have given you enough time to come up with a suitable excuse not to come.” Tina said, looking directly at him, her eyes daring him to contradict her.

He didn’t reply, knowing she was right, as he made his way upstairs and into the shower.

Despite all the progress he had made, this past week had been difficult. He could feel himself slipping back into his old mind set, wanting to hide, wanting to forget. Reading Chris' letter had only brought up old feelings of guilt and regret, rather than the wave of acceptance it usually gave him.

It’s why he’d forced himself out the night before, gone home with the first guy who’d shown him attention, with his legs wrapped round muscular thighs, hands scraping, scratching down a hard back, chest pressed against chest, he was able to forget everything else and focus on the present and what his year as an openly gay man had given him. He knew he couldn’t go back to the half life he was living before.

Fastening the final button on his shirt, he adjusted the collar, trying to hide the rather visible bruise on the side of his neck, annoyed at himself for letting the guy continue, knowing it would leave a mark but enjoying it too much at the time to care.

Splashing some aftershave onto his neck, he headed back down the stairs. Tina rising from where she was sitting as she spotted him.

“I’m afraid there's an intervention about to take place. We’re sorting that hair before we go anywhere.”

Cassie smiled, gleefully, as she reached into her bag, bringing out a tube of hair gel,

“I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve been wanting to fix it since... Forever! She finally gave me permission...”

“I... What? What’s wrong with my hair?” He looked between them both, incredulous.

He watched as Tina and Cassie shared a look, which clearly read, _“what’s right with it?”_

Cassie gestured to the chair she was now stood behind,

“Sit!”

Knowing there was no point even attempting to resist, he sat himself in the chair, glancing back over his shoulder at the pair of them warily,

“Don’t look so worried!” Cassie laughed, “we ain’t gonna do anything that drastic!”

A few minutes, and a whole lot of hair gel later, Callum was allowed up again, a small pocket mirror from Cassie’s bag shoved into this hand.

“See?”

Callum didn’t want to admit they were right but he couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror. Rather than his fringe being plastered flat to his forehead like it usually was, it was now gelled back into a quiff and, he reluctantly acquiesced to them,

“Ok, fine, it looks good! Let’s go eat and drink ourselves into oblivion.”

Tina and Cassie grinned,

“Told you so.” They said, in unison. Callum refused to acknowledge them.

 _Tonight’s the start of something new._ He thought, as they left the flat. _This birthday is mine. Mine to enjoy._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As they left Walford East station and made their way to Beale's, Callum was relieved that Tina and Cassie seemed to have forgotten the mark on his neck and there had been no more questions or comments regarding his sex life.

As he saw Hobbit and Ruby in the distance, he pulled the collar of his shirt up a little more, self-consciously, hoping it wouldn’t be visible.

“Halfway, you hunk of a man! Look at that hair!” Hobbit pulled him into a back-slapping hug.

“Me and Cass take full credit.” Tina said, staring pointedly at Callum. Callum just pulled a face.

“Suits you! Looking good, my man! Ready to get rat-arsed? Ready to actually celebrate your birthday?”

Callum nodded in agreement, as Ruby turned towards her boyfriend,

“Do you ever think about anything except alcohol?” She muttered, rolling her eyes, before turning her attention to Callum.

“Happy Birthday, you beautiful man. Here you are, chosen by me because we all know what a useless lump my boyfriend is!” They both laughed at Hobbit's affronted huff, as she passed him a gift bag.

“Can I…?” He asked gesturing towards it.

“Yeah, if you want.”

Opening the bag, he pulled out a photo frame, a picture of them all a few months ago. The first time Callum had finally merged his two friendship groups; the night two groups of three became a permanent five. A quote engraved across the top; _Friends are the family we choose._ He reread the quote again, looking at the five of them, both in the photograph and in front of him. They were his family. The family he chose, the family he needed, the family who loved him, unconditionally.

“I… Thanks, Ruby. I love it.”

“Hey!” Hobbit protested, “it’s from me too!”

Callum tilted his head to the side,

“You’re fooling no one, Hobbit. No. One.”

“It's still got my name on the label.” He muttered.

“Right, table is booked for 4, less talking, more eating!” Tina said, as she ushered them all inside.

Once seated at the table, Callum was extremely aware of the moment Hobbit finally noticed his neck. He turned towards him, about to say something, before stopping, eyes widening. Callum breathed deeply and prepared himself for the interrogation, refusing to let guilt, shame or any other negative emotion wash over him. He was an, almost, 25-year-old, gay man. He was allowed to have a little fun.

“Callum. Highway. Halfway! You... Oh my God! Have you two seen his neck?” He looked to Tina and Cassie.

They snorted, nodding.

“Yeah, and that’s not the first time it’s happened, by the sounds of things! Callum. You still owe us details. Spill.” Tina stated, just as the waitress arrived to take their order.

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook!” Hobbit warned.

“Leave him alone!” Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Never!” Hobbit winked, turning away to order.

“Don’t tell them anything you’re not comfortable with, Callum.” Ruby whispered at his side, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you.”

He felt his eyes water. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever said they were proud of him. His friends clearly were but to hear it spoken out loud, aimed at him, meant solely for him; his heart felt full, sat around this table, with four people who understood him, accepted him exactly as he was. It was more than his teenage self could have ever dreamed of.

“Thanks, Ruby.” He responded quietly. “It’s fine. Promise.” He squeezed her hand in return, as orders were completed and all attention returned to him.

“Right, where were we?” Tina enquired, innocently. “I remember... Callum Highway, we want details!”

“There’s nothing to tell.” He said, firmly. “Went out, had a few drinks, met a guy, took him home, had fun. No, it wasn’t the first time I’ve gone home with a guy, no, it won’t be the last and yes, I’m definitely gay. That's all you’re getting. If you don’t shut up, I’m going home.”

Hobbit just looked at him.

“My baby brother is all grown up!” Hobbit mock-cried, hands splayed over his heart. “It had to happen some time.”

Callum scoffed, protesting.

“Baby brother? I’m two months older!”

“In age, maybe. In sexual awakening, definitely not.”

He laughed, loudly, with Tina and Cassie. Callum tried to hold back his grin, failing miserably, as he too joined in the laughter, nodding at Ruby, making it clear he was ok. Soon all five of them were hysterical, wiping away tears, stomachs hurting. For Callum, this was already his best birthday by far. He would treasure this night, this moment, for the rest of his life.

“Thank you.” He said, sincerely, once they'd all finally calmed down.

“This may seem like nothing to most people but, to me, this is... I never thought I’d have this. So, yeah.” He cast his eyes downwards, not trusting himself to look any of them in the eye.

“You deserve it, honestly, you Big, Friendly, Gay Giant!” Hobbit responded, unable, as ever, to be serious for long. “I mean it, Callum. You’re a good ‘un.”

“A toast!” Tina pronounced, as the waitress arrived with their drinks. “To our BFGG!”

“That ain’t sticking!” Callum warned.

“Oh, it just might! Everyone got their drinks? To our BFGG. We love you!”

“To our BFGG!” Everyone chorused, as Callum felt himself detach, watching what was happening from afar, needing a minute. He excused himself to the toilet, feeling overwhelmed.

Splashing cold water on his face, he stared in the mirror, noting that he was finally beginning to like the person he saw reflected back. It had taken a lot to get here but Callum had been wondering lately if the hardships had been needed. They’d shaped him into the person he was now.

“You alright, mate?” He turned at the sound of Hobbit’s voice.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, trying to put what he was feeling into words. “Just needed a minute, it’s a lot, ya know. I sometimes have to pinch myself that you’re all still here.”

“Always, Callum. You know that. Listen, when Ruby got you that present, it got me thinking. And, I didn’t want to give it you before, with everyone, cos, well, you’ll see. I’m not good at the sentimental stuff but I thought you’d want this.”

He reached into his inside pocket, pulling out a blank envelope. Callum looked at him, confused.

“Just... open it.”

As he pulled out what was inside, he gasped. A picture of him and Chris, young and fresh-faced, sat on the sofa in their shared living room in their first year of uni. Chris' arm around Callum's shoulder, mid-laugh, hazel eyes glowing. Callum looking up at him, grinning, drink in hand. Hobbit on his other side, talking to someone out of shot. He couldn’t remember it being taken or when it was, he didn’t think any photos of himself and Chris even existed.

“Where...? How...?” Voice thick with unshed tears.

“I remembered Rachel used to take photos all the time. I found her and contacted her a month or so ago and she got back to me with this. I wanted to give it you today, for your birthday. I know how important this date is to you.”

“I... Don’t know what to say. You... Harley. Just thank you.”

He pulled him into a hug, holding on tight, staring at the photo. He moved back.

“I’ll be back. I just, I need a minute.”

“See you back out there.” Hobbit, embarrassed but clearly pleased he'd made the right decision, left the bathroom, leaving Callum alone.

He looked at the photo one last time, knowing exactly where the picture was going to reside in his flat and it would be right next to the one of his chosen family, who were currently waiting for him. Chris would always be a major part of his life but now he was a beacon of hope for the future, bringing a light to Callum’s life, rather than the cocoon of regret and dark thoughts that he used to be.

He put the photo gently back into the envelope, wiped away his tears and made his way back to his friends.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later, as the five of them walked the short journey to The Prince Albert, Callum found himself walking a little behind his friends. Cassie and Tina were holding hands, walking ahead, whispering about something. Hobbit had his arm slung around Ruby’s shoulder, as she laced her fingers through his. He watched them, beginning to picture himself walking hand-in-hand down the street with someone special by his side, a male someone. It was the one thing he’d never allowed himself to think about at all but now, he wasn’t so sure it would be all that scary. He wasn’t ready for that type of commitment yet, still happy to have a little fun, but, for the first time, it didn’t seem impossible.

Arriving at the club, Tina and Cassie made their way to the bar, shouting “SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!”, Callum watched them go, shaking his head. He had no hope of staying sober tonight.

“You know, the last time I went out for my birthday, was when you two met!” Callum exclaimed, suddenly remembering, “that was my... 21st, you met four years ago!”

Ruby grinned, looking up at her boyfriend, whispering something in his ear.

Callum looked at them suspiciously.

“What’s going on?”

Hobbit rolled his eyes.

“So much for waiting! We _were_ gonna tell ya after your birthday, so we didn’t distract from your night... but, well, I proposed this morning, over breakfast. It wasn’t even planned. She was just there, across from me, looking beautiful and I just thought, I want to marry you. So, I asked her.”

“And I said, yes!”

“And you’re the best man.” Hobbit added, no question, pure statement.

Callum face split into a grin so wide his face ached,

“Guys, this is the best news! I’m so fucking happy! And, damn right I’m your best man! God, 24th March, it’s been an eventful one over the years!” He laughed, as Tina and Cassie reappeared, tray of shot glasses in hand.

“What have we missed?”

Ruby looked at Hobbit again,

“We're engaged!”

Tina and Cassie screamed.

“Right time for two more toasts!” Cassie declared loudly. “First, to Rarley's... Huby’s... Rubbit's...”

“No, love. No.” Tina stopped her.

“Fine! First, to Ruby and Harley’s engagement. Second, it’s Callum's birthday and we all love him dearly and he's the only reason we are out tonight so we going to celebrate that first and foremost! We can go get drunk to celebrate you two another night, no stealing his thunder. Right. Pick your poison!”

“Quite right!” Hobbit agreed, as everyone reached to pick a glass.

“To Ruby and Harley!” They all chorused, before all eyes were on him. Callum could feel himself turning red, looking at all his friends with fondness.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CALLUM!” They all shouted, raising their glasses to him.

He grinned at them, realising with a start that for the first time in his life he was actually truly happy to be at the receiving end of those three little words. He raised his own glass in return, each of them downing their shot, as he pulled them all into a group hug.

“We love you!” Ruby said from beside him. He hugged them all a little tighter.

“Now let’s get this party started!” Hobbit shouted, with a loud _woop!_

Chris appeared in Callum’s mind and he felt a phantom hand against his heart, placing his own hand there. He smiled, holding the image in his head for a second longer, hoping that wherever Chris was, he’d be looking down on him, on them all, and that he'd be proud. He was in a place where he belonged, where he felt included and where he felt loved. He was happy. He just wished he’d made it here sooner.


	8. 2017 - 26th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2017 - Callum has reconnected with Mick and Linda, while helping out behind the bar at their pub The Queen Vic, he gets talking to an attractive stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, welcome Ben!  
> Quick note - Like with Callum, there are hints of canon here and there but the timeline is well and truly off!

**2017 – 26 th Birthday**

“Cya tomorrow, T," Callum waved at his friend as he made his way out of the restaurant where they both worked. “You’ll be at mine for 5, yeah?”

“Dammit, forgot you were leaving early today.” Tina said, sending a glare his way, muttering “ _lucky twat,_ ” quietly under her breath.

“Yeah, 5 is fine. Can't wait, it’s been ages since the five of us got together properly.”

He gave her a blank look.

“It’s been three weeks...”

“Yeah! Ages!” She shrugged, laughing, “have a good night tonight, yeah?”

“I will. It’ll be strange, ya know. It’ll be like going back in time but we all look older... Like Back to the Future. Sort of.”

She snorted.

“I’m telling Mick you said he looks like Doc...”

Letting out a snicker, Callum shook his head, holding his hands up in mock innocence.

“That were all you. Nothin' to do wi’ me. Right, best be getting off. See tomorra. Love ya!” Walking backwards, he blew a kiss in her direction before turning and picking up his pace.

Tonight, he was about to have takeaway and cake with Mick and Linda Carter, celebrating his first birthday with them since he’d turned 17. If someone had told Callum this time last year that he was going to spend the night before his birthday with two of the people who had saved his childhood from being a total disaster, in the pub they owned, he’d have told them they were living on another planet.

It had been nine months ago when Tina had excitedly told Callum that her Aunt and Uncle had bought her local pub, The Queen Vic. They’d quickly organised a night so they could visit and, as Hobbit pointed out, hopefully get some free drinks.

However, from the minute they’d walked into The Queen Vic a few nights later, Callum’s main memory was the rushing sound in his ears that had made everything seem like it was under water, as he'd spotted the man serving behind the bar. Memories of his childhood bubbling and rising to the surface. Breathing turning quick and frantic with shock. Gripping, hard, to Hobbit's arm, trying to bring himself back into the present. The worried words of his friends echoing around his head, as if they were miles away, followed by Mick's voice saying his name and his hands squeezing against his shoulders like he used to do all those years ago.

He didn’t know why he'd never made the connection, other than he didn’t think the world could be that small. Tina _Carter_. Mick and Linda _Carter_. Explaining to his friends how he knew Mick wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d have to do. The only person he'd ever told since he'd left for uni at the age of 18 had been Chris. He'd shut off that whole portion of his life; now Mick was a few steps away, related yet again to one of his best friends. Once his breathing had returned to normal, he hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry.

Tina and Mick had spent far too long arguing over why the other hadn’t told them they knew Callum, despite Callum pointing out there would have been no reason for either of them to mention him; he hadn’t even made the connection himself. Hobbit and Ruby had spent far too long asking him if he was alright.

It had taken a couple of months and a few long conversations and explanations but he now had a relationship with his honorary parents again. It was only when they were back in his life that he'd realised just how much he’d actually missed them. Yes, in some ways, they were a reminder of his Dad and Stuart but they had always been the light in that darkness, the ones to pull him back, holding on tightly whenever he’d fallen. It dawned on him just how stupid he'd been to cut contact with them. He was grateful they’d forgiven him so easily, slotted him back into their lives as if he'd never left.

The only thing missing from his life was a boyfriend, that someone special who was his person. Having now been recruited as best man for both of the upcoming weddings involving his four closest friends, he’d realised this was something he craved. Not necessarily marriage but someone who loved him and cared for him in a way deeper than friendship. Someone who he could come home to at the end of a long day, who would be there with a hug when he needed one, who he could share all his childhood memories with, whether good or bad.

He'd been on a few first dates over the past few months but they’d all amounted to nothing. A guy called Simon had been nice enough and, on paper, was perfect boyfriend material. However, he was missing that spark that Callum knew was possible, the fluttering in his stomach that made it difficult to breathe, the fire that came with looking into someone’s eyes and liking what you found there. He’d experienced it all with Chris, regardless of the fact he’d adamantly ignored the signs, but lately he was wondering if that was a once in a lifetime thing and maybe he should settle for someone nice who had the potential to be long term.

He’d voiced these fears to Ruby once when drunk. She'd quickly shut him down,

_“Don’t settle for anything less than you deserve, Callum. There is someone out there who will hold the match to relight that candle. Trust me, Hobbit was that person for me. I knew the minute he told me I was going to be his future wife and I’d know him all of 5 seconds!”_

Now, as he walked into The Queen Vic, earlier than planned, he watched Mick and Linda work seamlessly together and knew Ruby was right. He couldn’t live with second best; he'd done that with Whitney and it had almost destroyed him. 

“Callum!” Linda exclaimed, leaning across the bar to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank God you’re here. I need a favour. Help Mick behind the bar for a bit, could ya? I had a disaster with ya cake that I need to go fix before we eat it later!”

“Yeah, course.” Callum smiled, “always willing to help.”

“L, Babe, he's come here to celebrate his birthday, not to work! Honestly, Halfway, I’ll be fine, you just sit down. Let me get you a pint.” Mick moved to grab a pint glass, as Callum stretched out his hand to stop him.

“Honestly, Mick, I don’t mind. I’d love to help.”

Mick looked at him, nodding.

“So long as you’re sure?”

“100%.”

“Thanks so much, Callum. You’re a cake saver.” Linda said, making her way through to the back of the pub.

“Right, get behind ‘ere and let me show ya how to pull a proper pint!”

A few trial glasses later and Callum had finally mastered a decent attempt, Mick giving him an approving nod, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Good work, my man! Right, if you’re sure you’re ok, I’ll be back in a sec, running low on vodka.”

“All good,” Callum reassured him, waving Mick away to do what he needed to do, moving to serve a couple at the far end of the bar.

“What can I get ya?” Realising at the last minute that he recognised them.

“Oh, you’re gonna be Ruby and Harley’s best man, ain’t ya? Jay and Lola, we met at the engagement party? You working here?”

“Hey, yeah, I remember you both, nice to see ya again. I know Mick and Linda, just helping ‘em out for an hour. Seeing Ruby and Hobbit tomorrow actually.”

“Hobbit?”

“Oh. I forget no one else really calls him that. It was the nickname me and a friend gave him at uni, due to… I’m sure ya can work it out!” Callum grinned, guiltily.

“That is epic! He has never told us that. Wait ‘til I see him again! Tell ‘em we said hi, won’t…” Jay was interrupted by a voice entering the pub, coming to a stop beside him.

“The gang is all here! What’s everyone having, same again, Jay?”

“Yeah, go on then, mate, yeah!”

Lola and Jay clearly knew the guy who had just walked in and Callum would be lying if he said he didn’t find him attractive. Grey blues eyes, flickering with mirth. He recognised him from sight but not by name, remembering seeing him in the Albert a few times over the past year, always finding his eye was drawn in his direction.

He vaguely remembered last July, there’d been talk of a gay couple getting attacked on the way home from The Albert. It had terrified him but made him all the more determined to be proud of who he was. He’d very quickly come to the conclusion it was the boyfriend of the guy he was about to serve. The next time Callum had seen him in The Albert, he had a black eye and his knuckles were raw. His eyes were blank and empty. Callum was glad to see them bright and with life in them again. _You have a thing for eyes,_ his brain told him, unhelpfully, and _really_ not helping him focus, as the guy reached out over the bar, shaking Callum’s hand,

“Not seen you in here before? Ben Mitchell.”

“Callum Highway,” Callum heard the hitch in his voice, as he felt time slow as their hands joined, speeding up again as Ben let go. He didn’t trust his voice to hold out long enough to say anything else, despite being asked a question.

“He knows Mick, he’s just helping out.” Jay supplied.

“Hmm…” Ben looked at him curiously, Callum couldn’t work out what he was thinking but he assumed it wasn’t anything good. “Two pints o’ lager when you’re ready, mate.”

Callum forced his legs to move, reaching for two pint glasses. He decided that he wanted to know more about Ben Mitchell, wishing he wasn’t so awkward all the time; his hand still tingling from where Ben had shook it and trying not to acknowledge the last time his skin had reacted in such a way to someone’s touch.

Mick reappeared as he was placing Ben’s drinks on the bar in front of him.

“When you’ve finished serving, you can go and join Linda upstairs if ya want, Halfway. It really ain’t that busy here and Tracey’ll be back from her break soon.”

Taking Ben’s money from him, the other man’s fingers seemed to brush purposefully across his palm as he moved his hand away, sending shivers shooting down Callum’s spine. Looking up, Ben was turned away from him, taking a drink and listening to something Lola was saying. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a breath, convinced he’d imagined it. Even so, Callum was determined to at least try and strike up some form of conversation with him before his night with Mick and Linda began.

“I’m alright to help out til she gets here, Mick. Honest.”

“Whatever you prefer, my friend.”

Passing Ben his change, Callum wished he knew what to say, words escaping him, as Lola and Jay moved to a table, nodding at Callum as Ben joined them. Serving the next customer his double whiskey, he kept one eye on Ben at the same time. Spending the next ten minutes wondering if he could come up with an excuse to go over there and coming up short each time, having to constantly remind himself to _stop staring!_

He busied himself with tidying up the crisp packets as he saw Ben rise from the table and head back towards the bar.

“Having fun colour coding those crisps, mate?” He asked, smirking.

Callum turned, feeling himself going red and feeling a stirring in his groin caused by the look on Ben’s face. _Oh. This, this was bad._

“Hmm, oh, just they were messy, yeah. And…”

“Stick another one in there when you’ve finished, won’t ya? Go on, Jay, it’s your round…” Spinning back round to where Jay and Lola were sat, only to discover they’d gone, Callum saw his face fall. His eyes growing darker, for just a single split second, before his smirk was back in place. If Callum hadn’t been staring again, he’d have missed it. He had an overwhelming urge to squeeze Ben’s hand, which was resting on the bar in front of him. He inhaled sharply at the sensation; it was not a good idea.

“Are you… Are you ok?” He asked, instead, tentatively.

“Me? I’m always good. I’m Ben Mitchell.” Ben said, with no conviction and a grimace-like smile on his face.

“No point having that second pint though, is there? Places to go, more exciting people to see and do, if ya know what I mean.” Ben smirked again, Callum noticing that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Stay.” Callum blurted out before he could stop himself, shrugging as Ben raised his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I’ll have a pint wi’ ya. I’m not officially working. I’m just helping out while I wait for Mick and Linda to finish up.”

Ben looked at him, silent, something stirring behind his icy blue eyes and Callum was drawn in.

He shrugged, sitting down on the bar stool opposite him.

“I’ll think about it. So, Callum Highway, how do you know our beloved Mick and Linda?”

Callum sensed there was some sarcasm lingering in Ben’s tone but chose to ignore it, trying to decide how to answer the question without going into too much detail.

“I were best friend's wi' their son, Lee, when I was growing up. They... They looked out for me; like parents to me really.”

“Shirley were me step-mum at one point, ya know? She always looked out for me too.” Ben responded, voice trailing off, eyes shutting for a split second too long.

There was so much sadness in Ben, Callum couldn’t help but notice. More than he thought the man in front of him even acknowledged. He wished he could just wash it away for him.

“I’ve met her a couple o' times this past year. Never when we were kids. I hadn’t seen Mick and Linda in years til last year. It’s nice being able to reconnect with ‘em after so long.”

“Yeah.” Ben agreed, not saying anything more.

“I’ll get those pints for us, shall I?”

Ben closed his eyes again, rubbing against them with his palms, clearly torn about making the decision.

“I...” He raised his head, their eyes meeting and something seemed to change in Ben, decision made.

“Yeah, let’s have a drink.” The smile he gave Callum this time was so different, so genuine, shy almost. It was a smile he was sure people didn’t see very often and now he'd been privy to it, he had to see it again. It made Ben beautiful, made his eyes shine. Callum knew then he needed this man in his life, in whatever role was offered to him.

“I’ve seen you around,” he mentioned, trying for casual, probably not managing it, as he started to pour out their drinks. “In The Prince Albert?”

“You go to The Albert?” Ben’s query came quickly, as if unexpected.

“Yeah?”

“No, no reason.” There was an unspoken question in his tone.

“I’m gay,” Callum offered, relieved he could say the word so freely now, wanting Ben to know. “If that’s what you were wanting to ask.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.” He smiled, laughing shortly, taking a drink as Callum passed it across to him.

“It took me far too long to get to the point I can admit it freely.” Callum confessed. “My head was all over the place, didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I was going to The Albert before I’d told anyone. Tina, Carter, she’s one of me best friends, she used to drag me there. I think she suspected really. It took… It took far too much, with too many people hurt, for me to get to this point.”

“Likewise, mate, likewise. But, let me get this straight, no pun intended, you were friends with Lee growing up, Mick and Linda were like second parents, and now as an adult you’re best friends wi’ Tina… You really are obsessed with the Carters, mate. All you need to do now is date Johnny and you’ll be well away!”

Callum laughed,

“That doesn’t even bear thinking about. Hadn’t seen him in years, in my head he’s still about 12!”

“Callum, can I have a word?” Mick called him from the other end of the bar. Callum glanced over to him, pointing at Ben.

“Don’t go anywhere!” He said, as he headed towards his friend, “Everything alright, Mick?”

“Yeah, just… Look, be careful wi’ ‘im, alright? He’s trouble, causes trouble. I don’t want you getting hurt, Halfway. Not again. I’m not saying he’d hurt you in the same way but trouble follows him around.”

“It’s just a pint and a chat over the bar, Mick. That’s all.”

Mick didn’t look convinced; Callum could see the worry in his eyes. He touched the top of his arm,

“Promise I’ll be careful. Gonna sit over there.” He pointed to a table in the corner, “shout if ya need me?”

Mick sighed,

“Make sure you are careful, yeah? Should be ready to head up in half hour, that good?”

Callum nodded, turning and heading back to Ben. If he was honest, Mick’s words had only made him all the more intrigued. Ben was a mystery, waiting to be unravelled. Callum knew he’d already jumped in at the deep end, feet first, now he was desperate to find even the smallest, hidden clue.

“Shall we grab that table? I’ve got half hour before I have to go.”

“Where you off?” Ben asked from behind him.

Callum twisted his neck slightly, facing Ben for a second, before sitting down at the table, Ben following suit.

“Oh, just upstairs here with Mick and Linda, they’re insistent we have takeaway and cake. A throwback to birthday celebrations from when I was a teenager.”

“Why the hell were you working behind the bar on your birthday? Surely it’s a day of rest?”

“It’s not ‘til tomorra and I’d got nothin’ better to do while I waited for Linda to fix her cake disaster…”

Ben laughed, face lighting up, free; Callum wanted to take a picture.

“Right then birthday boy, drinks on me, wait there.”

“You don’t…”

Ben had already made his way back to the bar, ordering two more pints off Mick.

“Early birthday present, from me to you. Cheers!” Clinking his glass against Callum’s, he sat back down.

“So, come on then, what does Callum Highway do when he ain't helping behind the bar at The Queen Vic?”

“I’m a Sous Chef, met Tina at the restaurant we both work at.”

“A chef, full of surprises. Go on, then. What’s your go to, signature, dish?”

“Chicken pasta,” Callum let out on a laugh, “when I was at uni, it took me so long to get that dish right, it became a running joke.”

“You’re a Sous Chef, at a restaurant, and your signature dish is chicken pasta. Bloody hell, Callum, don’t push the gravy boat out, will ya?” Ben grinned at him again, that smile would be the death of him.

“Chicken pasta delight, actually,” Callum smirked. “What about you? What do you do?”

Ben’s face fell, smile disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“I… I’m a mechanic, work at the local garage. Also, work at the car lot… Selling cars. I’m a Ben of all trades me mate!”

Their eyes met again, Ben’s face reverting back to the shy smile from earlier and his chest sparked. He remembered Ruby’s words again and, recognising that Ben could very well be holding the match, he was desperate not to get too excited, too soon. He was distinctly aware that Ben was likely to be still grieving, knew the pain himself all too well. He couldn’t ask for more than friendship. It wouldn’t be fair but he knew he needed Ben in his life, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“Right then, Halfway, Tracey’s here, ready when you are! Let’s get the celebrations in motion!” Mick called, gesturing to the back and Callum knew he needed to go; it was why he’d come here in the first place. He was celebrating with Mick and Linda, making up for lost time. There was just a really weird feeling in his chest at the thought of leaving Ben now, without any kind of indication they could do this again.

“I… I’ll just be a second, Mick.” He rose from his seat, “Could we, ya know, catch up again sometime?”

Ben started, as if Callum’s words were unexpected, taking a sharp breath, looking pained and Callum’s heart sank. He shouldn’t feel this disappointed. He’d only spent an hour with him,

“It’s fine, just an idea, I have to go anyway. I might see you around.” He cleared his throat, beginning to walk away. “Nice to meet you, Ben.”

“No, wait, that’s not… Yeah. It’s always good to expand a friendship group, right?”

Callum groaned, inwardly. _It’s better than nothing,_ he told himself.

“Exactly!” He grinned.

“Pass us ya phone then.” Passing his phone across, he watched as Ben typed his number. _Just as friends,_ he repeated to himself. _Just as friends._

“It's been nice talking to ya, Callum.” Ben said, Callum already noticing the default smirk that was back on his face, not quite reaching his eyes. He wanted the carefree laugh, the shy smile. Those were the real Ben; he was sure of it. Callum just needed more time; time to get to the bottom of the enigma. Losing Chris in the way he did was in no way the same but to lose someone you loved, without being able to say a proper goodbye, that pain was indescribable. The urge to help Ben see there was a way through the dark, back into the light was pulling at his insides.

“How about you meet me at The Albert later?” Ben asked, looking more neutral again, as he passed Callum his phone. “I’ll buy the birthday boy a few more drinks? Maybe even get to see his birthday suit if I'm lucky?”

He winked at Callum, whose stomach did a somersault, butterflies flying up to his chest. That was not something _just friends_ would say. He was doomed.

“Yeah, why not?” he agreed, too quickly. “I’ll message ya?”

“See ya there.” Ben said, with a nod. He rose from his seat and stretched, his t-shirt rising slightly and Callum’s eyes were drawn to the tiny slither of skin that was now visible, throat going dry. He swallowed, hard, dragging his eyes away, as Ben made to leave.

“Bye.” He knew his voice had come out strangled and he really hoped Ben hadn’t realised, watching him go.

Reaching the doors, Ben stopped as he was about to walk through it, leaning on the handle as he turned back,

“Happy Birthday, Callum.” He said, small, shy smile back on his face, as he finally exited the pub.

Callum’s heart was still racing as he made his way up the back stairs. As much as he was looking forward to catching up with Mick and Linda, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of seeing Ben again tonight. Pushing all thoughts of what he wanted to happen aside, he did allow himself the hope that Ben would be around to wish him a happy birthday next year as well, in whatever capacity that may be.


	9. 2018 - 27th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2018 - It's been a year since Callum met Ben and to his dismay, they're still "just friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this, commented and kudos'd so far. I can't explain how much I appreciate it.  
> We're at the penultimate chapter :O and I can't quite believe I've managed to write a ten chapter fic!  
> The final chapter is on it's way but may not be until next weekend now.

**2018 – 27 th Birthday**

Callum had finished work; he was free for the weekend and he was heading home, looking forward to the birthday night out he had planned with his friends.

He’d moved in the new year and, although this meant commuting to and from the restaurant, he was fully and truly happy in his new flat. He’d lived in Stratford since uni and over the last few months of the previous year, he’d realised that everyone he cared about lived in Walford. He would never say it out loud but he knew that meeting Ben and the subsequent friendship they had formed had definitely been the catalyst for finally making the decision.

Hobbit, Tina, Cassie and Ruby had all been ecstatic about his announcement and their group reaction had made that very clear. Group hugs, drinks and promises to help with whatever he needed; it just reiterated just how lucky he was to have them all in his life.

Mick and Linda had both hugged him, offering him a job at the pub if he wanted it. He’d politely turned them down, assuring them he was more than happy to commute to the restaurant and reminding them that Tina had been doing the journey for years.

Ben’s response had been a lot more understated but it had meant so much more; a simple grip and squeeze on his wrist combined with the small, shy smile that was reserved only for him and a whispered, _“I’m glad.”_ These smaller moments were the ones Callum cherished the most and his love for Ben had only grown.

It was on the tube journey to and from work that he often wondered if Ben felt the same. It was the way he felt Ben staring at him when he thought Callum wasn’t looking, the hugs that always lasted a second too long, the way the world felt tilted yet seemed to right itself if they locked eyes. A whole year later and they had somehow remained _just friends_.

At first, Callum told himself it was because he wanted to respect Ben’s past experiences, let him work through his obvious grief. Then, Ben had opened up to him one night. He’d invited all his friends, old and new, to his flat. Ben had ended up drunk, in his bed, sobbing, after everyone else had gone home. Finally letting out all his thoughts and feelings about what had happened to him and Paul the night of the attack. Callum had simply got into bed beside him and held him while he cried.

They’d become closer after that, closer than Callum had ever felt to anyone, Chris and his four best friends included. He spoke to Ben most days, phone calls late into the night, random texts about awkward customers at work, just a quick “ _how are you?”_ to check the other was doing ok. If there was ever a day they didn’t talk, Callum felt empty, like something was missing from the day, a tiny hole in his chest that only contact with Ben could fill.

Callum had told Ben everything about his childhood, about his Dad, about Stuart, about Mick and Linda, about how he’d finally arrived where he was, comfortable in his own skin. He told Ben things he had never told anyone, feeling safe in his company, like he wouldn’t be judged. Ben had returned the favour; it turned out their backgrounds weren’t that dissimilar and Callum often wondered why Ben still allowed his Dad to be a part of his life. Rather than say this out loud, he was just there to comfort Ben whenever Phil inevitably let him down again.

Ben had introduced him to his daughter, Lexi, who had taken to calling him, _Uncle Cal._ When Ben’s face had fallen, clearly remembering what Callum had told him about Chris, Callum had stopped him with a hand on his arm and a subtle shake of his head. When they were alone, Ben had asked him if he was sure and that he’d talk to Lexi. Callum had reassured him, wanted to thank him with a kiss but had to settle with one of their longer than necessary hugs. Lexi was the only person Callum allowed to call him by his shortened name.

Callum was there for Ben; Ben was there for Callum. Yet, that was all it was and it was tearing him apart. He knew he’d done this to himself, told himself time and time again he was happy being _just friends._ When he’d finally admitted to himself that it wasn’t, it was too late. Neither of them willing to take that one step further.

“Halfway!” He stopped as he exited Walford East station, turning at the sound of his name being called.

“Timing! Where you off to?” He asked, as Hobbit reached him.

“I was actually heading to yours, forgot you were working this afternoon. I have a couple of things to talk to you about before we go out later.”

“Sounds ominous.” Callum laughed, “yeah, come now, I think I’ve got some beers in the cupboard. They’ll be warm but we can drink them anyway, start the celebrations early!”

They chatted amiably as they walked the short distance to Callum’s flat, talking easily, as they always did. However, as they reached the front door, Callum sensed Hobbit getting tense and his carefree, jokey demeanour began to fade. This happened rarely and he could feel his anxiety grow, a million different scenarios, each worse than the last, bouncing around in his head.

“What’s up, Harley? You’re ok, right? Ruby’s ok? I’m not gonna lie, mate, but you’re beginning to worry me.”

“Sorry, yeah, we’re both fine. Promise. I just… I have something to tell you and something to talk to you about. One, you’ll love. The other, less so.”

“Right,” Callum looked at him in confusion.

“Just, start with the good stuff. I think I want a drink before whatever else you wanna discuss.” He laughed nervously, grabbed them both a beer, as they moved to sit down.

“Well, I’m afraid me and Ruby won’t be stopping long when we go out later. We’re obviously gonna be there to celebrate your birthday, but Ruby’s pregnant, Callum! I’m gonna be a dad!”

Callum could feel the grin appear on his face and he jumped up, pulling his friend to his feet and wrapping his arms around him.

“Mate! I am so happy for you both, you’re gonna be amazing parents. I can’t wait! Your own little mini me! And, let’s not lie, considering how tall you and Ruby are, he or she is definitely gonna be mini.” He laughed as Hobbit hit him, joining in with the laughter.

“We’re gonna tell Tina and Cassie next week, after we’ve had the official scan but I just, I wanted you to know. You’re the brother I never had and, well, yeah.” He trailed off, looking out of place, as he often did when saying anything sentimental, instantly referring back to a less serious topic.

“Look, if anyone asks though, Ruby is ill. She’s got the shits or something else utterly rubbish!”

Callum shook his head, scoffing,

“I think just ill by itself’d cover it but, my lips are sealed, mate. I’m so happy for you! Right…” He took a breath, sitting himself back down and taking a drink, grimacing at how warm it was. “You had some bad news?”

“It ain’t really news and it ain’t really bad. I just… I wanted to talk to you about Ben.” He looked down at the table, avoiding making eye contact. “Look, before you say anything, I know you don’t want to have this conversation and, to be honest, you know how awkward I am at this, I could do without it too but it’s a conversation that needs to be had, Callum.”

Callum’s heart had dropped to his stomach. Hobbit knew him far too well, spotted things no one else did. Sometimes it helped Callum out. Others, like now, he just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He did not want to have a conversation about Ben or what Ben meant to him. It was one thing to admit it in his thoughts, when laid in bed at night, it was another to say it out loud. It would just make it all the more real, all the more concrete.

“There’s nothing to talk about. He’s a really good friend. He’s coming out with us later.”

“Seriously, Callum. Give me some credit. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. Chris included. You have feelings for him and, from where I’m standing, he clearly has feelings for you too. You can’t keep skirting around the issue. Both of you. I know I had my doubts about him at the start, as we all did, but he’s been there for you. He’s always there for you. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re speaking to him, when you’re with him. You don’t even realise.”

“Please, Hobbit, don’t. We’re friends, that’s it.”

“Look, I’m gonna say this one last thing. Talk to him. Whether that’s tonight, tomorrow, next week, but soon. Tell him how you feel. Before it’s too late. Don’t make the same mistake again. Don’t live with another regret, yeah?” He finished his beer, standing up.

“Right, Serious Hobbit has left the building. I’m getting a headache. Honestly, you and Ruby, the only people who bring out this side o’ me. Can’t decide if that means I love ya or I hate ya for it. I’m swinging towards the latter due to your bloody stubbornness!”

Callum stood, laughing slightly,

“Nah, you definitely love me. I do appreciate it, Harley, really, I do. I just… I’m not sure if I want to risk our friendship, ya know. It’s been so long now that what if it just ruins everything we’ve already got.”

“Sometimes love's worth taking a chance on. In Ruby’s words, sometimes you gotta let the other person light a match and you’ve gotta risk getting burned.”

“Ruby always has the best analogies…” Callum grinned, “and they’re often based on matches and fire!”

“Yeah, it’s why I married her. She lit my match.” Hobbit winked at him, pulling him into a one-armed hug, slapping his back.

“Oh… For… You and Ben are as bad as each other!” He exclaimed, pushing Hobbit away. “I’ll see ya in a couple o’ hours at The Albert, yeah?”

“Yeah, see ya there. Do think about what I said though.” He reiterated, pointing a finger at Callum, as he exited the flat.

Callum ignored him.

“Don’t forget to tell Ruby I said congratulations!”

“Will do, Uncle Callum!” Hobbit winked at him.

Callum shut the door behind him with a sigh, mind full with images of Ben. He was fully aware that, as a result of their conversation, there was no chance of thinking about anyone but the man who had entered his life and turned it upside down.

Remembering Ben was coming to his before they went out later, he shoved the remaining two beers into the fridge, before heading to his bedroom, throwing himself onto the bed, burrowing his face in the pillow.

Memories of his year with Ben somersaulting through his head, making his mind spin. He remembered being determined to unravel the mystery behind the man, knowing he’d done that, yet still unsure of what he actually meant to Ben. It was like they were on a seesaw. One minute he was up, the next minute he was down, yet the beam they were both sat on wouldn’t level itself out; never in a position where they could meet in the middle.

Checking the time, he knew he had to get himself sorted. Ben would be here in just over an hour and he needed to get rid of all the pent-up tension that was coursing through him before he arrived. Hopefully, if he got it out of the way now, he could keep it at bay once Ben was here.

As much as he felt guilty every time he did it, Ben had become the only source of shower material, morning bed material and late-night bed material for months. He’d not even looked at anyone else since the night they’d properly met and he definitely hadn’t had anyone back at his flat. Stepping into the shower, condensation steaming the shower around him, he allowed himself to give in to the familiar feeling, Ben’s hand replacing his own in his mind.

Later, he was stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, attempting to sort his hair, and the familiar feeling of excitement combined with anxiety making his hands shake. Ben was due to arrive and the first few seconds before and after seeing him always sent Callum into overdrive.

The buzzer rang, startling him even though he was expecting it. He brushed his hands through his fringe one last time before moving to the phone to let Ben in.

As the knock sounded on the flat door, he wasn’t quite prepared for the sight of Ben in front of him. Callum always found Ben attractive but, today, the shirt he was wearing brought out the colour of his eyes, his trousers clinging to all the right places and Callum’s mouth went dry. He gulped, hard.

“Hey. Come in. I’m almost ready.”

Ben stepped into the flat, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“I wanted to meet ya here so I could give ya these.” He passed a gift bag and a slightly bigger wrapped present across to Callum.

“I hope ya like ‘em. And, Callum, I never properly thanked ya, for my present and the day out we had wi’ Lex. The wallet, the photo, it’s honestly beautiful. Lexi hasn’t stopped talking about the fact _“Uncle Cal put a picture of me in your birthday present!”_ Apparently, this means she’s the bestest present ever.” Ben drew air quotes, smiling, as he always did, when he talked about his daughter. “I’ve been instructed to ask ya if ya’ll come to the fair wi’ us next week? She caught me wrapping ‘em and now wants to do somethin’ for your birthday too.”

Callum nodded; he loved Lexi and Ben's whole attitude became softer around her. He treasured every day he could spend with the pair of them.

“I’d love to come. I’m gonna open these, let me just grab us a drink.”

He passed Ben the presents back, heading to the fridge.

“Ya don’t have to open ‘em right…”

“Oh, I do,” Callum grinned, walking back to Ben and pointing to the sofas. “I spent way too long without any kind o’ birthday gift. I make the most o’ the ones I get now!”

They sat down and Callum reached for the gift bag.

Pulling out a photo frame, he beamed widely at Ben,

“I’m sure people think I like photos, those two were presents from Hobbit and Ruby a couple o’ years ago.” He pointed to his fireplace, where the photo of him and Chris and the group shot of everyone sat, pride of place.

“And, that one,” he pointed behind Ben to the bookcase, where he kept the newest photo of himself with Mick and Linda, “was from the two o’ ‘em last year.”

I remember ya saying.” Ben said quietly, “And I noticed you had the ones in ya bedroom from the weddings last year too and there were none of us so…”

Callum finally looked down at the photo encased in the frame Ben had given him. It was the two of them after their day out with Lexi, for Ben's birthday, a few days before. They’d gone to the Sealife Centre and it had been one of the best days of his life. Lexi holding both their hands, swinging in between the pair of them, as they walked along South Bank. Lexi giggling, pointing out various fish that she liked and getting extremely excited that she'd found Nemo and Dory. Later, Lexi had been sat on a bench, looking out at the Thames, eating an ice-cream and Ben had taken out his phone. He’d pulled Callum in close, almost resting his head on his shoulder, chin brushing against his chest. Callum’s grin was wide in an unexpected, yet pleased, smile, hiding the fact he'd been struggling to breathe normally as his heartbeat raced. Ben had done a little roar into the camera, mouth open as he pressed the button, turning the moment into a joke that Callum wasn’t sure either of them were falling for. This picture made them look like a couple. He refused to believe Ben couldn’t see it too. His heart was beating so loud against his chest, he was surprised it couldn’t be heard.

“Thank you.” He whispered, gripping the photo to his chest for a split second before moving to the fireplace and placing it between the two already there. “It’s perfect.”

Ben was staring at him, a look of wonder on his face. Callum looked at him, question in his eyes.

“I just…” Ben said, shock evident in his voice. “I wasn’t expecting you to put it…”

“Ben, you, you’re… You mean...” Callum sighed, not able to get the words he wanted to out, wanting to say how much Ben meant to him, not wanting to risk ruining the moment. As ever, he said nothing. “You’re my best friend.”

Ben smiled, a flicker of something else passing across his face.

“Yeah. Right. Open the other one! I hope you like it. I can change it, if it ain’t right.”

Callum let him change the topic, picking up the larger present. As he ripped open the paper, he gasped,

“Ben, this is…”

“I know you said you needed a new one and, yeah…”

Ben had got him a chef’s jacket, his name, _Chef Highway,_ stitched delicately onto one of the breast pockets, buttons engraved with his initials.

“It’s amazing, seriously, thank you.”

Ben just smiled that shy smile, Callum just wanted to reach out and touch it. He coughed, needing to break the moment.

“Right, shall we head off. Pretty sure the rest of ‘em’ll be wondering where we’ve got to!”

He placed the jacket gently on sofa, looking at it in amazement one last time, before making sure he had his keys and leading the way out of the flat.

They walked to The Albert in silence, content, walking so closely together that every now and then their hands brushed, sending electric shocks up and down Callum’s arm. Every time it happened, he’d chance a glance at Ben, hoping for some kind of indication it was affecting him too and not convinced it was.

He didn’t understand. Sometimes, like the time he’d taken their photo or the time he’d told Ben he was moving to Walford, he was sure Ben felt the same way. Others, like now, he was sure he'd just been imagining it out of some twisted, warped kind of hope.

As they reached The Albert and were met with the sight of their friends waving madly at them, Callum sighed, determined to push all thoughts of his feelings for Ben to one side and just enjoy the night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few hours later and Callum was getting drunk and his plan to push his feelings for Ben away was not going well. He wasn't too far gone that he needed to go home but that nice kind of tipsy, where everything was a little fuzzy and made him think about grabbing Ben and just kissing him, hard, and that really wasn’t helpful.

The two of them had joined Hobbit and Ruby sat at a table in a quiet corner of the club and he had no idea where Tina and Cassie had disappeared to.

“Ben, I need to ask you a really important question.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are your eyes such a beautiful shade of blue?” He asked, extremely seriously, looking directly into them, wanting to drown in them, wishing Ben would let him.

Ben spluttered, trying and failing to form words.

“I’m just... Toilet...” Ben left him, rushing off, and Callum realised what he’d just said. _Dammit._

However, as Ben arrived back at the table, he remembered he hadn’t been given an answer and, with inhibitions low, there was nothing to stop his mouth from speaking, even as his brain was telling him this wasn’t his brightest idea.

“You never gave me an answer. Your eyes. Why are they such a lovely blue? Did you know it’s like you can see right into my soul when you look at me?”

Ben went bright red, Callum just looked at him, expectantly. His brain was telling him he was an idiot and Ben was going to run a mile. His heart was telling him this was the most perfect conversation he’d ever had. The alcohol was listening to his heart.

Eventually, Ben muttered something about _parents_ and _genetics._ Callum didn’t fully catch what he said but he decided it must make sense so he allowed Ben to change the topic of conversation, asking him about work that day. Talk of his job wasn’t half as exciting if you asked Callum but it did bring back fresh memories of a extremely annoying customer,

“So, this customer ordered the pan-fried cod but without any of the sauce or toppings, then asked to exchange the potatoes for chips. We sent it out. Then she complained the fish didn’t have batter on it. The silly cow wanted fish and chips!”

Ben laughed; face creased in delight. Callum could tell he was getting drunk too. He never looked that free, that happy, always a tight line drawn across his forehead with worry that Callum always wanted to smooth away.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” He said.

Ben looked at him, grin fading slightly.

“I don’t… Yeah, I am happy. We’re celebrating you, of course I am.” He reached across the table they were sat at, squeezing his hand, leaving it there a second too long. Callum stared at their hands, wanting to grip on, to keep it there, when Ben pulled back quickly.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “Drink?”

He got up before Callum could answer, Callum sighed, rubbing against his hand where Ben had just held it.

He saw Hobbit and Ruby rise out of the corner of his eye, turning towards them as they reached him,

“Callum, we’re getting off. Go and talk to him, I mean it. We saw what just happened. The pair of you are as bad as each other. Stop running away.”

“Sorry we’ve got to go; I just can’t stay awake past midnight these days.” Ruby said, stifling a yawn, as if to prove a point.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m married to Cinderella, mate. Only, the shoe won’t fit cos her feet are swelled!”

“Harley!” Ruby hit him on the shoulder, as Callum laughed at his friend’s usual default humour.

“Honestly, Ruby, it’s fine! You go rest, no one else will notice ya gone, I promise. Don’t even ask me where Tina and Cass have got to!” Callum reassured her, standing up to meet them.

“We’ll pop round tomorrow with ya pressie. Ring us when ya up!”

She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and he hugged her tightly.

“Thanks. I’m so happy for the two of you, I can’t even put it proper into words. See ya both soon, Tina and Cassie’ll want to go the Vic to celebrate once they find out, I’m sure.”

They all laughed,

“Any excuse for a drink, even if the person we’re celebrating is confined to having water!” Hobbit grinned. “Right, love ya, my man but we’re off. Say bye to Tina, Cass and Ben for us.”

He waved them a final goodbye as they exited the club, walking to the bar to find Ben, who placed a shot in front of him.

“It’s officially ya birthday,” Ben said, Callum’s own personal smile on his face, the smile that sent shockwaves running through him every single time it was directed at him. Now was no different.

“Happy Birthday, Callum.” He knocked his shot glass against Callum's slightly, before they both drank.

Through his drunken haze, Callum’s mind flashed back to the previous year. Meeting Ben, the hope that Ben would say those words to him again, and here they were. Just not in the capacity Callum truly wanted.

Fuelled by alcohol, the fact his hand was still tingling from when Ben had gripped it and Hobbit’s insistence that he do something about it, he found a confidence he didn’t know he had. He grabbed Ben by the collar, pulling him closer.

“What are we, Ben?” Callum said on a breath.

He saw, rather than heard, the sharp intake of breath, as Ben’s eyes met his, dropping to his lips almost instantaneously. His own breath hitched, the tension between them almost tangible, the intensity of the moment sending goosebumps shooting down his spine. He was tired of being in this in-between stage of wanting but not having. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer. With _fuck this, it’s my birthday,_ running through his head and without thinking about the consequences if he’d read the situation completely wrong, he moved his hands to Ben’s cheeks and crashed their lips together. His insides were on fire and he couldn’t fathom why they hadn’t done this sooner. They were a perfect fit. This felt better than any kiss he’d ever had before; this is what kissing someone should feel like. The world around them evaporating as he felt Ben melt against him, giving into the sensation. Ben pulled away and the realisation of what he had just done hit him full force, winding him. His hands fell to his sides, only managing to remain calm as he realised Ben was gripping to the top of his shirt, stopping him from moving too far back.

“I… We…” He stuttered.

Ben put a hand up, stopping him,

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for months.” He admitted in a whisper, not looking Callum in the eye, breath skirting against Callum’s neck, making him shiver. He leant his forehead against Callum’s shoulder. “I just… I ruin things Callum. I don’t want to ruin you, ruin us.”

“Ben,” Callum tapped him gently on the back of the head, resisting the urge to stroke his hands through his hair. “Look at me.”

He waited, until eventually Ben raised his head, looking back up at him.

“I know everything about you, Ben, and I’m still here ain’t I? Yeah, you’ve made mistakes but haven’t we all? Everyone’s a little bit messed up, a little bit broken and that’s ok.

“I’m not worth it, Callum. Anyone close to me gets hurt.”

“Ben…” His voice thick with an emotion he was hoping Ben could hear, could see in his eyes. He moved one hand back to Ben's cheek, the other he pressed against his chest.

“I know, I know. I just find it hard. To let people in.”

Callum huffed out a laugh, very aware they were still extremely close.

“I find it hard to do anything but…”

Callum saw the tears in Ben’s eyes, his mouth curving up into the small, shy smile that was reserved only for him. He moved his hand slightly, brushing the tears away.

“That’s why I like ya…” And something in Ben changed, as he surged forward and closed the gap between them again. Callum knew his world had transformed, forever. He wasn’t going to let this be a one-time thing. He couldn’t. Ben had been holding his match for 12 months, the fire sparking every now and then and finally, _finally,_ it had lit the flame and it was glowing, warm and bright and he could tell it was the same for Ben. It would cost them too much to let the fire burn out.

Leaning back to catch a breath, he leant his forehead against Ben’s, holding him close.

“Happy Birthday, Callum?” He muttered against Ben’s lips, grinning widely.

“Happy Birthday, Callum.” Ben agreed, pulling Callum towards him again.

The last thing Callum remembered thinking, before all thoughts were consumed yet again by Ben’s lips on his, was, _there’s no denying I like my birthday now._


	10. 2019 - 28th Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2019 - Callum's first birthday with Ben as his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! I made it! I actually completed a ten chapter, 30,000+ word fic!  
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and kudos'd this random concept - especially considering a lot of it hasn't included Ballum! <3  
> I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! :D

**2019 – 28 th Birthday**

At this point in time, if anyone had asked Callum where he lived, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give an actual, straightforward answer.

Half the time, he and Ben were at his flat. The other half, they were at Ben's, with Lola, Jay and Lexi. It was like they were constantly walking through a revolving door, with a house on either side.

Neither had admitted out loud that they lived together though, even if they did spend every single night in the same bed, wherever that bed so happened to be. It was an unspoken agreement that they were both happy with and Callum, knowing how long it had taken them to even admit their feelings for one another, wasn’t about to risk asking Ben and ruining it just to get a definitive answer on their living arrangements.

The morning of his birthday the previous year, they’d woken up in Callum’s bed; limbs tangled, Ben’s head on Callum’s chest. At first, Ben had looked terrified and Callum was worried he was going to run.

 _“Please. Stay.”_ Callum had dared to breathe out.

He’d felt Ben relax against him, a subtle change in the way he was holding himself and Callum felt relief flow through him, even as Ben asked if he regretted it.

They’d talked then, Callum reassuring Ben that it was something he'd been dreaming of for months. Quiet, mumbled confessions from both of them about how long they’d been hiding their true feelings. Too long, was the answer and, later, Callum finally understood what _making love_ meant. His time with Ben superseding anything he'd done and felt before. It was everything he’d ever dreamt of. Ben’s legs wrapped around him, eyes meeting as they moved in sync with each other, slow and steady, fingers entwined, emotions coursing through him making his eyes water and his skin burning wherever Ben touched.

That night, as they lay beside each other yet again, Ben making patterns on his chest with his fingers, it was all Callum could do not to cry, realising that this was what being truly happy felt like. They hadn’t spent a night apart since.

A year later and, whilst their lives had changed significantly, Callum still felt like the luckiest man alive.

Walking into the living room at Ben's, he stopped at the doorway, watching him have a slow, simple, silent conversation with Lexi, hands moving slowly as they formed newly learnt signs.

‘You happy, Daddy?’

‘Yes, thank you. You?’

‘Yes. You’re here. I love you.’

‘I love you more.’

‘No. You love Uncle Cal more!’

‘I love you different.’

Callum's heart was racing and he was overcome with love and affection for the two people in front of him. It was a moment that, at one point, he never thought he’d see. Ben using sign language willingly, finally embracing and navigating his way through this new and daunting experience, accepting the help that Callum, Lola and Jay had offered. As he stepped further into the room, Ben's face lit up, smile bright.

“Daddy says he loves you different, Uncle Cal. I don’t know what he means. But I love you and Daddy the same.”

Callum grinned at Ben, saying and signing at the same time,

“I love you both too.”

It had taken Ben a lot longer than Callum to admit it. Callum had let it slip just over two weeks after his birthday. He'd been at Ben's, watching him play _magical unicorn princesses_ with Lexi. He wasn’t quite sure what the rules were exactly but so far Ben was covered in make up and glitter, wearing one of Lexi's plastic tiaras and he'd turned to Callum, rolling his eyes,

_“Do I pass as a lovely magical unicorn princess, Uncle Cal?”_

Callum hadn’t even realised he’d said what he was thinking out loud, until he saw Ben's mouth fall open and he’d felt Lexi's arms wrap around his neck, while she whispered,

_“I’m glad you finally told him, Uncle Cal. I told him you loved him ageessss ago and he wouldn’t believe me. Now I can say I told you so!”_

She’d turned to Ben with a look of pride on her face,

 _“Told you so, Daddy!”_ as she stuck her tongue out.

Ben had simply looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, speaking words he wasn’t yet able to say.

That night as they lay side by side in bed, Callum had turned to Ben, placing a hand on his chest,

_“You don’t have to say it back but whilst I didn’t plan it, I meant every word. I love you.”_

Ben had simply kissed him and, for Callum, that was more than enough. He knew Ben would tell him in his own time. He knew in his heart that he felt the same.

Then the accident happened. Ben working on a car at The Arches, banging his head, hard, as he was fixing the engine, resulting in him losing his remaining hearing. There had been countless arguments, countless setbacks. Ben refusing to believe Callum could still love him, not when he was weak. Callum insisting, he always would. Ben self-destructing, doing job after job to prove his worth to his dad, hurting himself more each time, both emotionally and physically, until one day Callum had finally snapped.

_“You can’t keep doing this, Ben! I can’t keep doing this! Your dad is not worth it. You are worth so much more. It needs to stop. If he can’t accept you for who you are, then he just ain’t worth it. He may be your dad but that don’t mean you have to bend to his every whim. If he ain’t there for ya, I am. I always am. I always will be. But I can’t sit back and watch the man I love throw his life away for someone who couldn’t give a fuck!”_

He knew Ben hadn't caught every word, too wound up with weeks of pent up anger, frustration and worry to keep his voice calm and clear but he also knew Ben had understood. With a look Callum had never seen before glistening in his eyes, Ben had finally whispered the three words that Callum had been hoping for, for so long. _I love you. I’m sorry. I love you._ Callum had signed it back in response, Ben had kissed him, hard, firm, wanting and that had been the turning point.

Now, here they were, a year after their first kiss, three months after Ben had finally, fully, opened his heart, with a party planned at Callum’s flat that night; a triple celebration, his birthday, Ben's birthday, their anniversary. At times, he still had to pinch himself to make sure this wasn’t a dream he wouldn’t wake up from.

“Uncle Cal,” Lexi said, pulling on his sleeve, giggling. “You’re daydreaming again!”

“Sorry, Lex, away wi' the fairies. What did ya say?”

“I said, can you make me chicken pasta before you go? Mummy said it’s Daddy’s turn to feed me but he’s a bad cook and you’re not!”

She signed the word ‘bad’ at Ben to reiterate the point she was making; Callum laughing at the affronted look on his face.

“She ain’t wrong!” Callum said, trying and failing to wink in Ben's direction. To Lexi, he said, “Chicken Pasta Delight coming right up!”

Ben stuck out his tongue, as Lexi skipped off shouting, “thank you!” in his direction.

Ben moved over to him, placing his hands on Callum's hips and pressing a kiss to his neck, before moving to his lips; Callum’s hands automatically moving to cup Ben's face, in the now automatic gesture, sparks never failing to fly at the sensation of their lips connecting.

“What was that for?”

“For being you.” Ben shrugged in response. “Can you believe it’s been a year? We made it.”

“I don’t think I ever told ya this,” He said, thinking aloud, ensuring his words were spoken slowly and clearly. “One of the memories I’ll always treasure the most from this year.”

Ben shook his head, gesturing for Callum to continue.

“Lexi thanking me for making you happy again.”

Ben’s eyes shot up, moving away from Callum’s lips to his eyes.

“Lexi did what?”

Callum stepped back a little, signing the words he knew, neither proficient yet in this new way of communication but both of them knowing enough to make it easier for Ben to understand.

‘Lexi said thank you because I make you happy again.'

“That girl is far too mature for her age.” Ben huffed, eyes betraying his true thoughts on the matter. Callum had realised very quickly after they were together, once he was allowed to stare unabashedly, that it didn’t matter what came out of Ben's mouth, the truth could always be found in his eyes; pool of blue that were windows to the inner workings of Ben's mind.

Callum smiled softly.

“True.” He said, “But I remember that day because it was the day after you said you loved me. And Lexi noticed you couldn’t stop smiling. I noticed too.”

‘You have a beautiful smile.’ He signed the final sentence, watching as Ben’s face transformed into the shy smile that had attracted his attention in the first place.

“And you, have a beautiful...” His hands were back on Callum's hips, shaking round and squeezing his arse, moving the conversation away from the avalanche of emotion and love that Callum knew Ben still struggled to accept he was worthy of.

Callum pushed him away, laughing.

“I’m going to make your daughter some chicken pasta. You go watch Hannah Montana and keep yaself occupied.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Callum was back at the flat, having left Ben and Lexi tucking into chicken pasta, with Lola and Jay.

He'd promised his friends they’d spend some time together, just the five of them, before the party. It had been too long since they’d all been able to meet up together. Hobbit and Ruby had Lilly, their now 5 month old, meaning limited sleep and limited time. Tina he saw at work but he hardly saw Cassie, especially since Ben and the accident. Finding time to just sit and have time together was difficult. He was looking forward to seeing his friends, with no distractions. He missed them but he knew it was inevitable as they all forged lives with their new families, knowing they’d always be there for each other, regardless of how often they were all together. They _had_ been there when Ben had his accident, with kind words, reassurances and hugs and he would always have a huge amount of space in his heart for all four of them.

He had a little time before they due to arrive and, being completely alone for the first time in what felt like forever, he took his box of memories out of the wardrobe; carefully removing Chris' letter from its envelope. He hadn’t reread it in such a long time, no longer needing the sense of acceptance it used to give him but he refused to let himself forget. The picture of the two of them still above the fireplace alongside the one of him and Ben, of his friends and the newest addition, himself, Ben and Lexi. _I hope your proud, Chris, wherever you are,_ he thought, finishing the poem that he could probably recite from memory if he tried. He replaced the letter and box, returning to the living room and holding Chris' photo for a second. _I’ll always miss you,_ wondering, not for the first time, how Ben would react if he offered to add a picture of Paul to the collection.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the flat buzzer and letting Hobbit and Ruby into the flat, he grinned,

“Long time, no see, Mummy and Daddy!”

“Halfway, have I missed your goofy face!” Hobbit pulled his friend into a hug. “Give me alcohol. And lots of it! It’s a baby free night!”

Ruby rolled her eyes, hugging him too.

“He'll never change!” She passed over a bottle bag. “Enjoy when you’re alone. It is not to be shared tonight!”

“Or you could open it now... Before everyone else gets here?” Hobbit responded.

Callum laughed, thanking Ruby for the present, not even becoming a Dad could change his best friend.

“Not a chance, mate. Not. A. Chance! Right, what _are_ we drinking?”

As he placed the bag on the worktop, the flat door buzzed for a second time, indicating Tina and Cassie's arrival.

He let them in, everyone talking over each other in greeting and Callum stood back, as he often did during these situations, gratitude and love making his heart swell.

Sitting down at the table, drinks in hand, Tina raised her glass,

“So, between us, in the past three years, we’ve had 2 marriages, found one boyfriend, given birth to one kid, gained one step-kid and kept hold o' a whole lot of love and happiness and we may not get the chance to do this as often as we once did but we are all always a phone call away and I think we’ve done pretty well for ourselves. Cheers to us, gang! Cheers to us!”

They all raised their glasses clinking them against each other’s with repeated, “cheers!”

“So,” Callum said, looking around the table at his friends. “What’s new?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two hours later and it was like they’d never been apart, stories flying, reminiscing on past endeavours, updating each other on current adventures.

“So, I may have drawn eyebrows onto Lilly the other day… Ruby was ready to murder me but just look at the pictures!” Hobbit passed his phone around the table; images of Lilly complete with a set of angry eyebrows staring back at them.

“I can see the funny side now!” She muttered, “but the twat used a sharpie and getting it off was a nightmare!”

They all burst into laughter, as Ben let himself into he flat, signing ‘sorry’ at Callum, who felt his heart swell with pride at the use of the sign in front of people who weren’t in his immediate family, whilst waving away the unwarranted apology.

“Hey!” Callum grinned, signing with one hand,

‘Come look,’ as he held out the phone.

“Ben! How ya doing, mate? It’s been forever!” Hobbit shouted, as Ben winced and Ruby hit him.

“There's no need to shout!” She hissed, turning to Ben,

“I’m sorry about my idiot of a husband. How are ya?”

Ben smiled thinly, taking the phone off Callum, who noticed his discomfort.

“I’m doing a lot better, thanks. Wait… Is this Lilly?” His face lit up as he spotted the picture on the screen, laughing at the confirmation, passing the phone back.

“Gutted I wasn’t around to do that to Lex. There’s no way I’d get away wi’ it now! Everyone will be arriving soon, Babe. I’m gonna jump in shower.”

As soon as he’d gone, Hobbit looked at him, sheepish.

“Sorry!” He whispered, “I forget.”

“It’s fine, honestly, I’m just gonna check he’s ok though, yeah? I’ll be back in a minute.”

He rose from the table, heading into the bedroom, Ben sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands.

He sat down gently beside him, careful not to make him jump.

“Ben?” He said, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

‘Are you ok?’ He signed.

“Yeah, just worried about the amount of people that are gonna be here later, the noise.” He admitted, as, even now, Callum felt a rush of relief run through him at the ease at which Ben had trusted him with the truth.

“If it gets too much, don’t suffer in silence, Ben. Promise you’ll tell me. We can come in here or just go stand outside for five minutes, give you the time.”

Ben nodded, hands forming a cross over his heart, ‘promise.’

He kissed Callum gently on the cheek, gripping his hand. Callum held on firmly, placing his head on Ben’s shoulder, looking up at him.

“It’s been nice, seeing them all. I’d forgotten how much I miss them.”

“Do you regret any of it?” Ben whispered. “Am I even worth it?”

Callum sat up, staring at Ben in confusion, hands forming signs,

‘What? Never.’

"Course you are! What have I missed? Where has all this come from?” He said, aloud.

“Just something Lola said earlier. That I’m lucky to have you. I am, ya know. I put you through hell. I just… I’ll mess up again. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do!” Callum shrugged, “you’re human, Ben. It’s what we do. I told ya last year, we’re all a little bit broken.”

“Some more than others.” Ben mumbled, head down.

Callum lifted his chin up, forcing Ben to make eye contact.

‘You are loved. Always. Remember that.’ He signed, pulling Ben towards him, kissing him gently.

“Right, get yourself in the shower. We’ll have guests arriving soon!”

Ben pulled him back closer, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, Callum. For everything.”

He nodded, rising from the bed, stroking Ben’s cheek as he did so and leaning down to kiss him on the head.

‘Always.’ He motioned, before heading back out to his friends.

“Everything ok, Callum?” Tina asked, a worried look on her face, “should we go?”

“What? No! Let’s get some more drinks down our necks! Everyone else’ll be here soon!”

“Who else is coming?” Hobbit enquired, helping Callum collect fresh drinks for them all.

“Mick, Linda, Lola, Jay, Lexi, for a little while, you four, obviously.” He counted the people off on his fingers, “Bobby, Peter and Kathy, possibly Ian. Although, Ben was adamant he couldn’t come cos he sucks the fun out of everything, apparently, so who knows.” He shrugged.

“But Ian provides the comedy!” Hobbit responded, with a laugh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was almost midnight and the party was in full swing and had, so far, been a success. Callum was stood with Ben, arm loosely around his shoulders, in the kitchen, looking over at all their friends and family. Lola had left with a sleeping Lexi on her shoulder a while ago. Ian had been, sniffed at the fact there was no food, and promptly left again. Tina, Cassie, Mick and Linda were drunk and dancing round the living room, singing, _Baggy Trousers,_ whilst Ed Sheeran played out of the speakers. Callum couldn’t work out the correlation but it was fun to watch, regardless.

Ruby was somehow fast asleep on the sofa, despite the noise, head on Hobbit’s lap, as he stroked her hair,

“We were up at half 4 this morning.” He said, in way of an explanation.

Bobby and Peter were chatting in the corner and Kathy was talking to Jay, who looked desperate to get away.

“I should probably go and save Jay,” Ben said, whilst making no effort to move from where his head was resting in the crook of Callum’s neck.

“Nah, he’ll be fine.” Callum replied, instead pulling Ben into their bedroom, away from everyone, wanting a moment of quiet, a moment of just them.

“Babe, come on now, I know you struggle to keep it in ya pants but...”

“Ben!” Callum shut him off, shaking his head, eyes full of laughter. “I just wanted it to be us two. At midnight. That’s all.”

He saw a look of realisation pass over Ben’s face.

“Did anyone ever tell you ya a soppy git?”

“Yeah. You. On a regular basis!” He laughed.

Ben just smirked at him. The one that set his insides on fire and Ben knew it. He pulled him into a kiss, Ben moaning in response, sending a signal straight to Callum's groin. With a concerted effort, he pulled away from Ben.

“Nope.” He let out, breathless. “Not now. When everyone’s gone...”

“I'm holding you to that.” Ben warned.

“Please do...” Callum grinned, hearing Mick’s voice carrying from the living room,

“Linda! Gonna spend the rest of my life, with you by my side…” actually following along to the music being played this time, realising that he wanted that to be him and Ben in twenty years’ time.

Ben nudged him, pointing to the clock, which now displayed four zeros. He pulled him into a hug; the soft, shy smile that was reserved just for Callum, firmly on his face, whispering in his ear,

“We officially survived our first year.”

Callum pulled away, signing,

‘One year, Ben. One whole year of me and you.’

“With many years to come I hope…” Ben replied, kissing him again, softly.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled on the courage and confidence that had allowed him to kiss Ben a year ago,

“Move in, Ben. I want us to live together, properly. Me and you. In this flat,” worry lacing his tone, not sure what to expect from Ben's reply.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Ben whispered, with a smirk. “Happy Birthday, Callum.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: fandomandmore  
> Twitter: fandomandmoree


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